The morning began with the familiar ritual of ninety minutes with the enhanced barbell, but today the routine felt different. As Elias completed his final set and felt the supernatural warmth spread through his muscles, he found himself examining his hands with new appreciation. The strength building in his arms and shoulders wasn't just about lifting heavier weights—it was about the ability to make objects that were previously very physically exhausting, to create larger and more complex objects.
The X55CrMo13 steel waited on his workbench like a promise yet to be fulfilled. Two precisely cut pieces, each one destined to become half of what would be his most sophisticated tool to date. Creating pliers required a different approach than his previous projects. Where a barbell or burin could be crafted as single, unified objects, pliers demanded the creation of two perfectly matched components that would function as one.
The forge flames danced higher as he fed more gas into the fire, bringing the temperature up to the bright orange heat that X55CrMo13 required for proper forging. This steel was more demanding than the materials he'd worked with before, its chromium and molybdenum content requiring precise temperature control to avoid creating stress concentrations that could lead to failure under heavy use.
He selected the first piece of steel and thrust it deep into the forge, watching carefully as the metal began to glow. The transformation from cold, dark steel to cherry-red working material always fascinated him—the way the molecular structure became plastic and malleable, ready to be shaped by hammer and anvil into whatever form his skill and imagination could conceive.
The initial forging focused on creating the basic plier head shape. Using his cross-peen hammer, Elias began drawing out one end of the steel bar, gradually tapering it into the flat, broad surface that would form the gripping face of the plier. Each hammer blow had to be precisely controlled—too light, and the steel wouldn't move; too heavy, and he risked creating surface defects or uneven thickness that would compromise the tool's performance.
The work was physically demanding in ways that his enhanced fitness made manageable. The repeated lifting of the hammer, the precise targeting of each blow, the constant movement between forge and anvil—all of it required the kind of sustained strength and coordination that would have exhausted him just weeks ago. Now, his muscles responded with reliable power, his breathing remained steady, and his hands maintained the delicate touch necessary for precision work even as sweat beaded on his forehead.
As the first plier head took shape, Elias found himself thinking about the mythology he'd been studying. The Hecatoncheires—the hundred-handed giants who had helped Zeus overthrow the Titans. Gyges, specifically, whose name meant "the long-limbed one." These weren't merely strong beings; they were creatures of perfect grip, able to hold fast to anything they grasped with the combined strength of a hundred arms working in coordination.
The image had captivated him during his research. Not just raw strength, but the ability to maintain perfect, unwavering hold on whatever needed to be controlled. It was exactly what any craftsman needed from a pair of pliers—not just the power to grip, but the certainty that whatever was held would remain absolutely secure, positioned exactly where it needed to be for as long as necessary.
The second piece of steel went into the forge as he continued shaping the first plier head. The gripping surface needed to be perfectly flat and smooth, with precisely controlled dimensions that would mate perfectly with its opposite number. Using increasingly fine hammers and careful heat control, he gradually refined the rough forged shape into something approaching the final form.
Hours passed as he worked the two pieces alternately, ensuring that each developed in harmony with its partner. The pivot point required particular attention—this was where the two halves would connect, creating the mechanical advantage that made pliers effective. The hole had to be perfectly positioned and sized, with smooth edges that would allow free movement without excessive play or binding.
The handles presented their own challenges. Unlike the gripping heads, which needed to be relatively thick and robust, the handles required careful tapering to provide comfortable grip while maintaining sufficient strength to transmit the user's force effectively. Too thick, and they would be uncomfortable to hold for extended periods; too thin, and they might bend or break under heavy use.
As the basic forging neared completion, Elias found himself with two pieces of steel that were recognizably plier components, but still rough and unfinished. The real precision work would come during the filing and fitting process, where microscopic adjustments would determine whether the finished tool would function with the smooth precision of professional-grade equipment or the sloppy tolerances of hardware store mediocrity.
The filing began with coarse files to remove the scale and rough surfaces left by the forging process. Working methodically, he brought each surface to dimensional accuracy, constantly checking with calipers and straightedges to ensure that every measurement matched his design specifications. The gripping surfaces received particular attention—they needed to be perfectly flat and parallel when the pliers were closed, with no gaps or high spots that might prevent secure holding of workpieces.
The pivot fitting required the most delicate work. Using progressively finer files and reamers, Elias carefully adjusted the pivot hole in each component until they assembled with the perfect balance of smooth operation and minimal play. Too loose, and the pliers would feel sloppy and imprecise; too tight, and they would bind or wear prematurely. Finding the exact middle ground required patience and the kind of tactile sensitivity that could only be developed through years of hand tool experience.
By late afternoon, the mechanical fitting was complete. The two halves of the pliers moved together with silk-smooth precision, their gripping surfaces meeting with perfect alignment across their entire width. The leverage felt correct, the balance was exactly what he'd intended, and the overall proportions satisfied both functional requirements and aesthetic preferences.
But they were still just excellent conventional pliers. The transformation from superior craftsmanship to supernatural capability awaited the inscription that would integrate mythological power into precisely engineered steel.
Elias positioned the first plier half in his engraving vise, adjusting the angle until the gripping surface was perfectly horizontal and accessible to his enhanced burin. The inscription would go on the outer face of each jaw, positioned where it would be visible but not interfere with the tool's function.
"Ὠγύγης," he murmured, feeling the weight of the ancient Greek name on his tongue. Gyges, the long-limbed one, the hundred-handed giant whose grip could hold fast to anything, no matter how powerful or determined to escape. The name carried associations of implacable strength, of holding force that could not be broken or evaded.
The enhanced burin moved through the hardened steel with its characteristic supernatural ease, but this inscription felt different from his previous work. As each Greek letter took shape, Elias found himself visualizing not just the mythological giant, but the specific moment of perfect grip—that instant when Gyges would close his hundred hands around a struggling Titan and render all resistance futile through sheer, unwavering hold.
The visualization became almost hypnotic as he worked. In his mind's eye, he could see the enormous figure, arms multiplied beyond human possibility, each hand positioned with perfect precision to maintain absolute control. Not crushing grip that would damage what was held, but firm, secure hold that would keep everything exactly where it needed to be regardless of external forces or the struggles of whatever was grasped.
Each letter of "Ὠγύγης" seemed to carry part of that imagery, as if the inscription was becoming a conduit for the mythological concept rather than merely a label. The omega at the beginning, flowing into the gamma with its strong vertical lines, then the upsilon with its bowl-like containment, the gamma again with its grounding presence, then the eta with its balanced horizontals, and finally the sigma with its serpentine curves that seemed to wrap around and secure everything that came before.
The work took longer than any of his previous inscriptions. Not because the letters were more difficult to form—the enhanced burin cut through steel with the same effortless precision as always—but because each character seemed to demand careful consideration of its mythological significance. This wasn't just about creating sharp edges or storing tools; this was about channeling the fundamental nature of perfect grip, the ability to hold fast to anything with unwavering certainty.
As he completed the final sigma on the first plier jaw, Elias felt the familiar sensation of integrated knowledge, but the words that formed in his mind carried particular weight: "Rule Integrated: Ὠγύγης (Gyges) Effect: has the clamping force of a hundred-handed giant Authority: Elias Thorn. Duration: Permanent."
The second plier jaw received identical treatment, the same careful inscription of the giant's name with the same focused visualization of perfect, unbreakable grip. When both halves were complete, Elias reassembled the pliers and held them up to examine his work.
They looked like exceptional conventional pliers, distinguished only by the elegant Greek inscription on each jaw face. But as he held them, he could sense something different in their balance, their potential. They felt eager somehow, as if they were waiting for the opportunity to demonstrate their enhanced capabilities.
The heat treatment process required particular care with the enhanced pliers. The inscription had integrated with the steel's molecular structure, but the metal still needed proper tempering to achieve the balance of hardness and toughness that would allow it to function under heavy loads without becoming brittle. He heated specific sections to precise temperatures, quenching and tempering with the methodical attention that distinguished professional toolmaking from amateur experimentation.
The final polishing brought out the inscription's details beautifully. Each Greek letter stood out clearly against the steel's surface, perfectly formed and uniformly deep.
The wooden handles were crafted from seasoned oak, shaped to provide comfortable grip. They were secured with carefully fitted pins that would prevent loosening under use, completing the transformation from raw steel to finished tool.
Standing at his workbench as the evening light began to fade, Elias held his completed creation with the satisfaction that came from work done properly. The enhanced pliers felt perfect in his hands—balanced, responsive, eager to prove their capabilities. Now came the moment of truth: testing whether mythological enhancement could actually deliver the performance he'd envisioned.
He selected a steel bar from his materials rack, a piece of quarter-inch rod that would provide a good test of the pliers' basic gripping capability. As he closed the jaws around the steel, something extraordinary happened. The bar seemed to lock into position not just mechanically, but somehow fundamentally—as if its very existence had become tied to remaining exactly where the pliers held it.
The sensation was unlike anything he'd experienced with conventional tools. Normally, gripping a steel bar required constant pressure to maintain hold, with the ever-present possibility that the workpiece might slip or shift if his grip relaxed even slightly. But with the enhanced pliers, once he'd closed the jaws, the bar became absolutely immobile. Not just held securely, but positioned with the kind of unwavering certainty that seemed to defy physics.
More remarkable still was the way the enhancement affected his perception of what he was holding. The steel bar's center of mass seemed to relocate itself to the point where the plier jaws gripped it, making the entire piece feel perfectly balanced regardless of how much material extended beyond the grip point. A six-foot bar held at one end felt as stable and controllable as a six-inch piece held at its center.
The implications were staggering. Any asymmetrical workpiece—pipe, angle iron, irregularly shaped castings—would become perfectly manageable once gripped by the enhanced pliers. The variable center of mass that made complex parts difficult to manipulate would become irrelevant, replaced by the supernatural certainty of Gyges' hundred-handed grip.
As he experimented with different materials and shapes, testing the limits of the enhancement, Elias found himself thinking about the broader implications of what he'd created. This wasn't just a better pair of pliers; it was a tool that fundamentally changed the relationship between craftsman and workpiece. With perfect grip assured, he could focus entirely on the work itself rather than dividing his attention between task execution and workpiece control.
The enhanced pliers joined the growing collection stored in his silver necklace, taking their place alongside the kukri, burin and barbell. Each tool represented a different aspect of supernatural craftsmanship, but together they were beginning to form something more significant—a complete toolkit that elevated every aspect of his work beyond normal human limitations.
As he secured the workshop for the night, Elias felt the familiar weight of the storage necklace against his chest, now carrying four of his most precious creations. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities to apply his enhanced capabilities to practical problems. But tonight, he was content to know that whatever those challenges might be, he possessed tools equal to any task his imagination could conceive.
The hundred-handed grip of Gyges had found new expression in precisely engineered steel, ready to hold fast to whatever the future might bring.