These particulates, the Collector sensed, still possessed all the physical properties of snowfall.

They were cold and melted quickly before they could touch the Collector's aura of flames. Aside from the greater intensity at which they fell and their color, there was no differentiation.

"So it is true. Grain falls this far to the north," said the elder.

"Explain further," said the Collector as it clicked its mandibles. It had thought it had thoroughly taken note of this land from the elder, but it knew that the elder did not possess anything remotely resembling the hyper efficient processing unit within the Collector, meaning it was susceptible to forgetfulness and mistakes.

This, the elder knew, but he did not apologize for he knew by now that the Collector believed them to be worthless.

"In speaking of Grain, I suppose I can tell you some of the Old Age now," said the elder. "I have told you of the World Dungeons, no?"

The elder asked with genuine curiosity because he was unsure of whether he had spoken of these topics with the Collector despite their conversation having been conducted just shy of a day ago.

"Yes," said the Collector.

The elder had, in fact, spoken of them.

The World Dungeons were seven enormous dungeons located in various areas around the planet, and they were unique in that they manifested throughout every single realm, being intrinsically connected to all of them.

Like black holes that were wells pinned through all layers of space, the World Dungeons remained the same in all realms where environments and creatures and tinkerers changed forms and shapes across them.

The only exception was Aetheria, the realm of the so called 'gods', and this because the realm had been constructed artificially, though the means by which it was done so was difficult to ascertain.

The elder only knew of far-flung myth regarding this event, stating that when the gods rallied with the Convergence, their flying palace ascended its form also into Aetheria.

The World Dungeons were a topic of immense interest to the Collector. At the dawn of recorded oral history, it seemed that shortly following the appearance of gods, two sets of challengers arose to face them to vie for planetary supremacy.

The first were the dragons. Reptilian creatures of immense might and varied strengths capable of manipulating natural disasters to their wills. In a battle known as the Draconomachy, the gods slew the dragons, utilizing a brilliant light from their sky palace that burned the dragons away.

Afterwards, when the gods had begun to settle into supremacy, another challenge beset them. The emergence of World Dungeons swarming with powerful monsters.

And from them, there arose the Titans – boss monsters of supreme power that laid waste to civilizations whilst seemingly possessing absolute resistance to any magic the gods could perform.

Thus, in response, the gods assembled together two weapons of unparalleled power that surpassed any of the magics they had previously utilized.

Twin blades known as the Dawnrise and the Duskfall, and with these combined, they lured the titans to one area and obliterated them with a mighty strike that erased an entire continent through every single realm.

The Dawnrise, the Collector was familiar with.

It was the weapon of the god it had encountered and slain. The supposed 'High King'.

The Collector did not possess magical energy at the time of encountering it to have analyzed its full capabilities. But merely through physical observation, it could determine the blade was capable of easily outputting firepower on the level of nuclear ordinance, rapid, large-scale cellular regeneration that would have been unsurpassable had the Collector not possessed its bilespitters, and barriers capable of comfortably weathering the Collector's explosively charged stabilized bioplasma or psionic-plasmobaric explosions.

And the Collector knew that the weapon had been cast away by the entity to someplace in this world, though very likely, it calculated that some tinkerer or god had assumed control of the weapon once more. Thus, until the Collector could at the very least assume power to match such a weapon, it had to minimize its presence.

The elder, when questioned, seemed to possess no conception of where this weapon could be.

Or, potentially, the Collector could seek out the presence of this secondary weapon of equal merit. This 'Duskfall'. Yet, the location of this weapon, too, the Collector lacked any data of. Nor did the elder possess any such relevant information.

The best the elder could provide was that the Duskfall belonged to the daemon variant of humanoids in their home realm known as 'Zerul', but after a large-scale confrontation between other humanoids and the daemons, the realm had been sealed off and the Duskfall supposedly lost.

"One of these World Dungeons lies farther north, far beyond even the Rift, it is said," continued the elder. "There, the great Titan Fimbulvaltr, said to be the last of the great dragons, lies in eternal rest, having been struck down by the war goddess.

Where World Dungeons still to this day birth mighty monsters, it is said that Fimbulvaltr's World Dungeon remains as his grave. From his corpse, it is not monsters that emerge, but instead, his promise of eternal winter is still kept.

The Great Storm is said to originate from his body, and so too, is this Grain. Blackened snow said to be the crystallized tears of his failure.

Goblins have never traveled this far north, to reach the dangerous lands nearing Vimur, but the farther north one goes, the more Grain from the Rift falls."

"Tell me, if you are capable, the properties and qualities of this 'Grain'. Both magical and physical," said the Collector.

"Feels…strange," said Thokk as he narrowed his red eyes and rubbed at a spot on his shoulder with one of his four arms where a particularly large Grain flake landed and melted down into black liquid. "Numb."

"Grain is said to choke magic," said the elder. "Within a great storm of it, it is said that not even the mightiest of spirit roots and cores will be able to flow mana. Yet, those that are monsters born from the world, born from the very same essence that Fimbulvaltr himself arose from, are immune."

The Collector the mandibles of its main skull. It sensed general discomfort all around the troop of champion units behind it as they continued further and further into the increasing Grainfall. Yet, the Collector itself was entirely immune.

Likely because the Collector was considered a 'monster' and therefore exempt. However, it was not origin of creation itself that necessitated this, for the Collector's place of construction was within the Hivemind planet, far from this rock.

No, it was, instead, the Collector perceived, due to its Primal Density. The Primal Density charging each and every one of its cells that allowed it to better perceive the flow of environmental mana and render it more resistant to tinkering magics was the very same magical barrier that warded against the Grainfall.

"You did not mention notable threats in this area," said the Collector to the elder. "Yet, you state there are such presences now."

"Ah, I forgot," said the elder with a shrug.

"Elder…you really forget something important like that?" Thokk groaned and shook his head. "I should take you off my shoulder and make you walk."

"There will be no such course of action. Instead, make known to me the details of these threats," said the Collector.

"The lands close to the Rift, I know so very little of. Only the faintest of tales," said the elder. "But around Vimur, I have heard that around the Jotun's corpse, wraiths – living specters of ice – will wail and stand eternal vigil."

"Wraiths?" asked Thokk, utterly clueless.

"Ah, I only ever told Hrunt most of the stories and tales passed down to me," said the elder. "I do miss the young one despite how unruly he was. Selfish and easy to anger he was, but still, he believed much in leading our people to greatness.

I take solace in knowing that to bring the king to our midst, he must have fallen."

"If you possess any knowledge of the capabilities inherent to these 'wraith' specimen, you will inform me now," said the Collector.

"I…I know little, I am afraid. I know merely that they are said to be harrowed lost souls. Perhaps guardians of the Jotun, for it is said also that his hand holds a great treasure within."

"Specify this treasure," said the Collector.

"This too, I know nothing of."

"Elder, you know a lot less than I thought you did," said Thokk.

"Such is the wayward nature of life," said the elder.

"That sounds like something you make up as an excuse," countered Thokk.

"First you learn our tongue so quickly, now you begin to see through me." The elder smiled a toothless grin. "Wonderful."

The Collector clicked the mandibles of its main skull, understanding that the elder would provide little to no more useful information. They were in territory beyond the scope of his experience.

The Collector determined that the Grain did not affect the goblin units significantly for they were all physical fighters. The Grain prevented magical energy from circulating outwards, but inwardly circulating it for physical strengthening did not suffer any drop in efficiency.

The goblin units were approximately ninety percent capable as a fighting force. The Collector remained at one hundred percent combat capacity.

A good thing, too, for it would seem that these 'Wraiths' were already here.