The time to the Stormbear dungeon was less than half it was going out of it to Vimur, for now the Collector no longer had to stop its flight for the relatively slower goblin swarm.

To be certain, the swarm was still vastly slower than the Collector, but they were still faster now, fast enough that the Collector did not feel it was wasting too much inefficient time by staying in their midst.

They sprinted through the snow with nigh inexhaustible stamina, for the Breath of Life ice crystals enriching their cells were highly responsive to primally charged environments, granting them increased metabolic function and mana regeneration in areas of Grainfall.

The Collector flew over them, or rather, it hovered, utilizing the flight granted to it via its shard of succession.

On that regard, the Collector had attempted to glean as much information as it could about the nature of this entity known as the 'White Voice'.

The elder, now with his memory a little more fresh due to rejuvenation via the White Voice, had more to say about this.

The White Voice was the manifestation of a planetary will. If the Collector could equate it to any metaphorical element, it believed it apt to state that if a planetary core was its own independent specimen, then such was the White Voice.

The analogue seemed accurate in many ways. The White Voice was said to emanate from deep within the planet, presumably in an area approximated with a true planetary core.

Whether the White Voice was actually a core or a biological specimen proper was left undecided.

This analysis, too, surprised the Collector in small measure, for it had grown to readily accept any explanations that just two weeks prior would have sounded logically impossible, breaching knowledge of all natural laws it had been implanted with.

Now, however, the Collector understood the versatile nature of magic and how it could render once thought impossibilities as realities and simply adjusted its mode of thought to accommodate it.

The White Voice seemed to possess a regulatory role among specimens on the world unrelated to tinkerers.

The more 'natural' creatures, as it were. Primal energy was sourced from it, and because primal energy was simply the expression of mana from the environment, the Collector surmised that essentially, the pathways of environmental mana it saw all around it were like spirit roots for this 'White Voice', with the planetary core, of course, being like a magical core as well.

In that regard, the White Voice was the most powerful entity by far the Collector knew of, encompassing an entire planet's worth of mass and presumably magical energy. Yet, said entity's expression of its power was vastly limited in many ways.

Firstly, the White Voice seemed to operate mostly in a regulatory manner that did not intervene, only merely keeping a balance on its world surface. It did not truly have any biases among certain living specimen over others.

This, the Collector could derive from how the elder revered the White Voice as a voice that 'spoke for all', granting both life and death in equal measures so that the cycle of nature could continue unthwarted.

It would seem also that the White Voice also functioned as a prototypical deity among more primitive tinkerers or intelligent creatures. However, vastly distinct from the 'gods' which were implied to be spacefaring by the White Voice itself.

The implications of that confirmation, the Collector had already processed but would not expand into detail yet.

Secondly, the White Voice did could not exert enough direct power to defeat the gods which, according to the elder and the elites, it was opposed to.

The White Voice had raised titans to face the gods, implying that the White Voice could not independently destroy other beings, it had to rely on creations, 'children' as it had put it.

The Collector now being one of them.

Thirdly, the White Voice was vastly weakened, though through what mechanisms, the Collector could not be entirely certain.

The Collector knew for certain the White Voice was decayed simply from the short interaction they had together, and it also knew the Voice's intentions as well for the Voice had projected its desire of eliminating the gods onto the Collector.

A goal the Collector had found agreeable. It had already planned to overcome and devour these 'gods' after all.

But as for why the White Voice was deteriorated - a fact that was known not only among the goblins but also the Jotnar that sought advanced hibernation to awaken to an age where the Voice was renewed – there was little evidence to glean.

The elder had thought the White Voice had faded from the world due to the loss of the titans, her 'children' as it was said, rendering her too weak, for she had split shards of her primordial essence among them, and now, these shards were scattered.

This, the Collector could find as an acceptable explanation and defaulted to it, though it was still open t others. Even with the elder's memories ridden of the fog of senility, that did not change the fact that the elder's knowledge came from hearsay and secondary sources such as orally transmitted folktale.

True answers to all these, however, the Collector would find beyond the Rift.

To the Jotnar.

Activating the Jotnar core had not only allowed the Collector to glimpse the memories of its prior owner, but also establish a connection with the area the Jotnar had utilized to engage in their hibernation. They were transported elsewhere, but the Collector was confident by virtue of possessing their shard that it could still access them.

For now, however, the Collector began its experimentation.

The Collector stood in the midst of the Stormbear dungeon, behind a raging bonfire where meat had been roasted and passed around freely.

The Collector had granted the swarm one hour and thirty minutes to make merry at their reunion and to speak of their experiences and new appearances, particularly in regards to being brought from death via the Breath of Life.

This was theoretically a waste of time, and the Collector itself did not engage in any of it for it saw no true purpose, but it did give orders for the elder to build up an image of the Collector as one that could transcend death, thus building up more reverence and more loyalty.

In addition, the elder and the elites also gave the rest of the swarm some notion of what to expect in the future when the Collector split the swarm.

In time, or already as it was with certain more fiercely loyal specimen, the swarm would come to value their physical injuries less and be willing to be used more expendably by the Collector.

But now, the time of nourishment and rest was over.

The Collector looked in front of it where all its elites knelt.

Goromir. Kandak. Thokk. And finally, the newly evolved Thrag.

Thrag had, as the Collector theorized, become the new boss of the Stormbear dungeon, and the influx of magical energy had allowed it, coupled with the Collector's Higher Calling, to ascend into an elite.

The rest of the goblin swarm stood around and behind the fire in quiet, ready for their Sovnar's words.

The Collector spoke, its voice radiating outwards in a cool, calm, measured elegance underlined with a faint hint of a crackling rumble caused from the draconid's vocal chords.

"The elder has made this known among you already. This swarm shall be split. Yet, I will delve into further detail," said the Collector. "In two shall this swarm be divided. One force remaining here utilizing this dungeon as a central base,

One force shall follow me as I cross the Rift."

A general murmur rose among the goblins that had remained behind in the dungeon, for they all knew the reputation of the Rift as immeasurably dangerous. They worried for the Collector's safety and the future of the swarm.

"Do you doubt the might of the Sovnar?" said Kandak, his voice rising as he heard the whispers with a twitch of his pointed ear. "He goes now with purpose. Over the Rift. To conquer it. To make it ours. Do not question."

"Small dungeons alone are not my goal," stated the Collector. "This territory, I understand has been a source of great pride for you. Yet, it is nothing in the scope of the Great Purpose which has been vested within me.

For in the wake of the Great Purpose, this swarm shall play a role in not only conquering dungeons, but the very gods themselves.

To challenge this world, however, I require power, and power, I shall find across the Rift. When I return, precious little will challenge us."

"Hear the Sovnar's words, brothers and sisters, all you who were once simpler and could not see beyond the next meal," said the elder as he tapped his waking stick, now more of a staff, into the stone floor. "We are on the eve of a greatness.

It is not the Old Age, as I have thought, but a truly New Age for our people. Those of you that have listened to me thought my tales of a goblin kingdom and greatness as fanciful, but can you doubt them now that you witness how far we have come with the Sovnar behind us?"

The goblin swarm looked among each other, and the Collector could find no dissent, only agreement.

"That is what I thought," said the elder. He was still bald, but now the Breath of Life had granted him a thick beard of icy white that drooped down to his chest. "The Sovnar goes now to find the might to challenge the gods and bring the greatness that was once ours back to us.

Those of you that come to aid him, fight for him with your lives, for as I and many others here are living proof that the Sovnar holds reign over death itself.

Those of you that stay here, grant your prayers to the Sovnar."