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The Collector watched as the carrier unit was the first one to stand up in full control of himself, and, judging by the unbroken and normal wavelengths of mental energies transferred via the Higher Calling link, the specimen was in full control over itself.

"Where…where am I?" mumbled the goblin elite as he shook his head slowly, feeling his senses return to him. He tried to take a step and stumbled before catching himself from falling. But almost as soon as he stumbled, he righted himself, and then his eyes, now blue instead of red, widened in surprise.

The unit stared at his hands, at their icy white sheen, and cocked his head, his tusks of ice now tilting with him.

"I thought I was dead," said the unit. "But I feel strong. Stronger than ever before."

The carrier unit, as if to prove his point, stomped his foot into the snowy ground, driving up a small cloud of snow and shattered rock from the forceful blow – a show of power that would have been impossible for it before.

"You had faced systematic expiration," stated the Collector. "But with new adaptations that I have procured due in some part to the efforts of your swarm, I have no gained the capacity to reverse dramatic failure of internal and external systems."

"My king, is that you?" said the carrier unit as he stared with fanged jaws agape at the Collector\'s new form. He shook his head. "No, of course it is you. I can sense it."

Immediately, the carrier unit knelt down to the ground with his head bowed. "You have saved me. Saved me from death itself. I do not know how you did it, I am too dumb to understand truly, but you have beat death."

The specimen began to shiver even though the Collector knew that he was well equipped to deal with the cold, now more so than ever because of the enhanced cellular nourishment generated via the Collector\'s Breath of Life.

"Why is it that you exhibit signs of distress from lowered temperature? Such a reaction should not be possible given your current state of elevated capabilities."

"It is not that, my king," said the carrier unit as he stared up at the Collector with a reverence that was unlike any that the Collector had perceived from him beforehand.

This was the reverence that the Collector had seen when the goblin swarm perceived when it had conjured up its flames, defying the cold of this winter waste. It was a reverence that transcended the respect granted to figures of authority or simply those higher up on a social ladder, this was the type of awe that came to manifest when one believed another not just above, but truly transcendent.

"I…I know I died. When the stone birds struck me with their pellets, I felt my blood leave my body, and then I went dizzy, and then the darkness came. I fell into it, I was gone. I was dead." The carrier unit held his arms together in vulnerability completely unbecoming of it, but the feeling of overcoming the finality of death must have been unsettling to large degree.

"But you brought me back," said the carrier unit. He bowed his head in true reverence. "You are not only our king. To defeat death: you are a god. God over death."

"Do not so easily categorize me with the entities that tinkerers bow themselves before," stated the Collector. "But you may refer to me any way you desire, so long as the terminology reflects satisfactory loyalty."

"Loyalty? My life is owed to you many times over," said the carrier unit. "Loyalty is only the beginning of what I can give you."

"That is satisfactory then," stated the Collector as it now noted that the two other elites, previously mindless and created from the Burial Tusks, had managed to stand now, gaining their bearings.

The Collector could tell that the nature of their magical auras was different. Their flow was a little more disorderly which indicated that they were no longer mindless beings akin to drones.

Instead, they were processing independent emotions that caused fluctuations in their magical energy, and this in turn allowed the Collector to surmise that they had broken free of being bound from the Burial Tusks, no doubt given more complete life by the Breath of Life.

"Brother…what is this?" said one of the elites as he put one of his hands to his head, rubbing it.

The other elite grunted in response. "Both of us were torn asunder by the earth goddess. No doubt, we have entered the gates of Goblunn where warriors such as ourselves belong."

"Far too cold and bleak for gates that promise paradise," came the response before both of them gained more of their senses and immediately stared at the Collector, sensing its pressure of magical energy.

"Submit to my will," stated the Collector, utilizing Higher Calling for the twin elites, having been reanimated and gaining their minds back, had also broken free of any prior Higher Calling.

Both elites felt the Collector\'s words wash over them and knelt down.

"There was no need to project your authority over us, good lord," said an elite.

"We of the First Hand have always sworn to serve the voice of our lords. Through life and death," said the other.

"He is no mere lord," said the carrier unit. "He is a king. A god king."

"A god-king?" The elites looked up at the Collector and stared specifically at the shard primed on the Collector\'s crown of white energy. "Has the great god Gob returned in the flesh?

No, but this pressure, this presence, no doubt, there is some of Gob within you, O great one, and your crown of succession cannot be questioned." 

One of the goblin elites punched a fist into the snow as a form of introduction. "My name is Goromir of clan Zoll."

The other elite followed. "And I am Kandak, also of clan Zoll."

In unison, they spoke, almost in a chant. "As elites of the First Hand, we shall act as your fists and tusks. As twins born of the same flesh, we have trained and been blessed with the Old Blood. We will rise to any challenge you lay before us. We will serve your through life and death."

"Hey, that is my role!" objected the carrier unit Thokk.

"Who is this uncouth elite?" said Goromir as he gave a judging side eye to Thokk. "Who knows not proper etiquette?" 

"Tis\' true, brother," said Kandak. "Look at the way he carries himself. That is no trained elite. He knows not how the fight. No true elite can he be called. "

Kandak stared at Thokk. "So how can you call yourself among the First Hand of the king?"

"Huh!?" Thokk took in a breath, pumping his strength up. He no doubt was confused by many of the things the other elites said, for the elites showcased knowledge that indicated they hailed from a far different time.

Yet, the intentions in the elites were clear. This was a sign of dominance, and the carrier unit was not going to simply let them usurp it.

"You doubt me? I was with the king far before you two. Come on, I fight you now! Prove you two weak!"

"Only one of us need to show you the immaturity of your mind and body," said Kandak. He nodded to his brother with a slight grunt, a throaty expression that the Collector perceived was part of their language but lost among the current generation of goblins. 

"Show this upstart what it truly means to be of the First Hand, brother." 

"Gladly," said Goromir before he stood up and bowed his head to the Collector, clasping his four fists together in ceremonial gesture that no doubt indicated great respect. 

"Do you grant permission for this duel, O great king? No, not merely king, for you are graced with the true light. O great Sovran?" said Goromir to the Collector. "It shall prove that we are truly worthy of defending you."