Geralt of Rivia was a man who had seen the impossible, from higher vampires to dimensional travelers. But as he sat in the Fortress of Doom, staring at the digital readout on Henry's console, his legendary stoicism finally shattered.
Henry swiped his gauntlet across a holographic interface, transferring a series of files into a small, etched Sentinel Data-Crystal.
"GIFT... FOR... THE... ROAD," Henry rumbled. "RECIPES... FOR... IMPROVED... WHITE... RAFFARD'S... DECOCTION. ALSO... THE... ENHANCED... AND... SUPERIOR... VERSIONS."
Geralt leaned in, his cat-like eyes scanning the molecular breakdowns. His jaw didn't just drop; it practically hit the obsidian floor. In the Witcher's world, Superior potions required years of study, rare monster mutagens, and carried enough toxicity to kill a horse.
Henry's versions? They were pure.
"This... this is impossible," Geralt rasped, his fingers tracing the holographic stable-isotope chains. "Superior White Raffard's usually shuts down the liver. Yours... yours uses Sentinel Shards to stabilize the heart rate. It's not just healing, Henry. It's cellular reconstruction. No toxicity. No darkening of the skin. Just... life."
"I... DON'T... DO... POISON," Henry replied with a shrug that made his Praetor Suit hiss. "IF... IT... DOESN'T... FIX... YOU... 100%... IT... IS... BROKEN."
******
While the Witcher was having an existential crisis over a bottle of yellow liquid, the Aen Seidhe were busy rewriting the laws of the Continent.
In the newly established "Engineering Wing" of the valley, Riordain and the Elder stood over a massive stone crucible. They weren't using magic. They were using Science.
The books Henry sold them—the Periodic Table of Elements—had been a revelation. They had learned that the world wasn't just "Earth, Fire, Air, and Water." It was Hydrogen, Iron, and Carbon. They began experimenting, mixing common metals with the supernatural ores of their world.
"Add the Dimeritium now," the Elder commanded, her eyes shielded by Sentinel-made goggles. "Balance it with the Meteorite ore and the crushed Sentinel Shards."
As the mixture melted, the blue energy of the shards bound the anti-magic properties of the Dimeritium to the celestial strength of the Meteorite. They weren't just forging steel; they were creating Sentinel Alloy.
The books hadn't given them blueprints—Henry was too smart for that—but they had given them the principles of Modern Metallurgy. Following the laws of thermodynamics and structural integrity, the Elves began to build from scratch.
They forged the first Sentinel-Grade plating. It was light as a feather, harder than diamond, and hummed with a low, blue light that warded off the chaotic influence of the Wild Hunt.
"We are no longer children playing in the mud," Riordain whispered, holding a newly forged Sentinel Spear. "We are building the armor of the stars."
******
Henry watched the progress from his scanners, a satisfied smirk on his face. He checked his sidearm, the UAC EMG, as a notification popped up on his HUD.
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[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: TECHNOLOGY TIER UPGRADE - BRONZE TO SENTINEL-INDUSTRIAL ]
[ REWARD: UNLOCKING 'HEAVY CANNON' SCHEMATIC ]
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"THEY... LEARN... FAST," Henry muttered. "TIME... TO... UPGRADE... THE... PERIMETER."
******
The "Engineering Wing" had officially become the "Slayer's Showroom." Henry stood behind a heavy obsidian counter, the Sentinel-Industrial lights overhead glinting off the polished black metal of the UAC weaponry.
For the first time, Henry wasn't just selling books or juice; he was selling the "Grand Equalizers."
"YOU... HAVE... THE... STRENGTH," Henry rumbled to the gathered Aen Seidhe. "NOW... YOU... NEED... THE... TEETH. BUT... TEETH... NEED... TO... BITE."
He laid out the 2016 Model Arsenal. There was the UAC EMG Sidearm, the Combat Shotgun with its sleek tactical frame, and the legendary Super Shotgun—a double-barreled beast that looked like it had been forged in the heart of a dying star.
"THE... PISTOL... RUNS... ON... THE... AIR... AROUND... US," Henry explained, pointing to the EMG Sidearm. "BUT... THE... OTHERS... ARE... HUNGRY. THEY... REQUIRE... AMMO."
He slammed two heavy metallic cases onto the counter, filled with Shotgun Shells. "Physical slugs for physical monsters. You want to stop a Fiend? You need lead and propellant."
Beside the weapons lay the Mod Kits. Small, glowing modules that could be snapped onto the rails.
"PISTOL... GETS... THE... CHARGED... ENERGY... SHOT," Henry demonstrated, the barrel whining as blue light coiled before a devastating discharge. "COMBAT... SHOTGUN... GETS... THE... BURST... SHOT... OR... EXPLOSIVE... SHOT."
The Elves approached with reverence. Two young scouts, Glys and Gloir, picked up the Super Shotgun. They felt the massive weight—a weight that would have crushed a normal human's wrist, but felt perfectly balanced in their Sentinel-Augmented grips.
Glys turned the twin-barreled monster over, scratching his head. He looked at the slots where the mods should go on the other guns, then back at the empty, brutal frame of the break-action.
"Lord Doomstar?" Glys asked, his brow furrowed. "The small thunder-stick has the glowing piece. The single-barrel has the 'Boom-Shot.' But this one... the big one with two mouths... why are there no mods for it? No 'Charged Shot' or 'Burst'?"
Gloir nodded, looking equally puzzled. "It is the heaviest of all. Surely it deserves the most upgrades?"
Henry let out a low, metallic chuckle that sounded like stones rattling in a tin can. He rested a gauntlet on the cold steel of the twin barrels and flicked them shut with a heavy, mechanical BANG.
"IT... IS... THE... SUPER... SHOTGUN," Henry stated with absolute finality. "MODS... ARE... FOR... THOSE... WHO... NEED... TO... BE... CLEVER. THIS... WEAPON... ISN'T... CLEVER. TWO... BARRELS. ONE... TRIGGER. WHATEVER... IS... IN... FRONT... OF... YOU... DISAPPEARS."
Glys and Gloir exchanged a look of pure, elven bafflement. To them, more tech always meant more power. But as they looked into the dark, bottomless muzzles of the Super Shotgun, they felt an aura of "No-Nonsense" violence.
"So... its 'Mod' is just... more death?" Gloir whispered.
"EXACTLY," Henry replied, the sound of the locking mechanism echoing off the walls. "KEEPS... THINGS... SIMPLE."