In the sea-hung stillness of dawn, Achilles extended his hand.
Around him, the fruits of his labor answered in silence.
A hundred weapons hovered in solemn orbit- no longer just singular legends, but series forged in echoes of the same essence.
He made multiple of the same weapons with the same materials!
For each design- the Thalassarian Sovereign Trident, the Aurelfin Tidepiercer, the Astral Severance, and others- eight to ten shimmering counterparts now existed, each retaining a slight variation, each still breathing with living intent.
The Stellar Aegis of Adrastia replicated in sets, ready to serve the worthy.
The Titan's Crest of the Abyss, the Hand of Cataclysm, and the Coral Crown of the Endless Deep- all carried a glorious echo, a continuity of his forging spirit.
Achilles floated in the heart of this forge of arms, the sky split by glowing rings of weapons awaiting their wielders. His purple-gold eyes simmered with silent triumph.
A slow breath.
A proud smile.
