"First things first," Jeremy said. "We need an ore processing facility before anything else. No point mixing andocite alloy if we can't process the raw ore efficiently."
Shuri had her scanner ready. "Show me."
Jeremy reached into the gauntlet and did something Shuri was entirely unprepared for.
He switched into his Minecraft avatar.
It wasn't violent or dramatic. One moment Jeremy was standing beside her in the hangar — a real person in real clothes — and the next he was rendered in that distinctive blocky geometry, slightly shorter, movements precise and grid-aligned in a way that human bodies simply aren't. His hands could now manipulate Create components directly, interfacing with the gauntlet's materialization field as naturally as placing blocks in a world.
Shuri took a half step back. Then she raised her scanner and started documenting because she was Shuri and that was what Shuri did.
"Okay," avatar-Jeremy said, his voice unchanged even if his geometry wasn't. "We start with the crushing wheels."
He pulled two creative motors from the gauntlet's inventory and placed them on either side of a designated strip of the hangar floor, spaced precisely. The motors materialized fully — heavy, mechanical, real — bolted to the reinforced floor as if they had always been there. He connected a shaft between each motor and its corresponding crushing wheel, the rotation transferring immediately, the wheels beginning to turn with a deep satisfying grinding sound that echoed off the hangar walls.
Then the conveyor belt between them, feeding directly into the gap where the crushing wheels would process whatever came through.
Shuri walked around it slowly, scanning. "The wheels crush the raw ore."
"Crush it into crushed ore," Jeremy confirmed, already moving to the next stage. "Which processes into more output than smelting raw ore directly. Better yield. Create rewards you for processing properly."
He called up mechanical arms next — articulated, precise, each one mounted on a small depot station. One depot on the input side of the crushing line, loaded with raw ore. The arms reached, grabbed, placed — feeding the conveyor with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic once it got going.
"Arms handle the item transfer," Jeremy said. "So the system runs without anyone standing here moving things manually."
The crushed ore came off the far end of the first conveyor and the mechanical arms transferred it smoothly onto a second conveyor belt running parallel. And here Shuri stopped and stared.
Behind a row of iron bars running the length of the second conveyor, lava sat contained — glowing, patient, held back from the factory floor by the bars and by the design of the whole system. And mounted behind those bars, angled precisely, were encased fans.
The fans moved.
Hot air washed across the second conveyor in a controlled stream — not lava, not direct heat, but the thermal output channeled and directed like a forge without the mess. The crushed minerals riding the conveyor moved through that hot air column and began to change — smelting, processing, the heat doing in seconds what a furnace would take minutes to accomplish.
Ingots emerged from the far end.
Shuri caught one as it came off the output depot. Still warm. Dense. Properly formed.
She looked at it for a long moment.
"You built a smelting system," she said, "that doesn't have a smelter."
"Bulk processing," avatar-Jeremy said, with a note of genuine pride. "The fans and the lava do the work. The bars keep the lava where it belongs. The conveyors keep the material moving so nothing sits in the heat too long and burns." He paused. "Create rewards you for understanding airflow."
Shuri turned the ingot over in her hands. "This is fully functional industrial ore processing."
"First stage," Jeremy confirmed. "Now we build the mixer line next door and pipe the output straight into it."
Shuri set the ingot down carefully on the output depot and picked up her tablet to start sketching the integrated layout.
"Jeremy," she said without looking up.
"Yeah?"
"You have been doing this in a video game."
"For a while now, yeah."
"Wakanda has seventeen engineering PhDs on staff," she said. "None of them have ever shown me an automated thermal processing line that runs on fan-driven lava convection."
Jeremy's blocky avatar turned toward her and somehow, despite having no real facial expression to speak of, managed to convey the pharaoh grin anyway.
"Create mod teaches you things," he said.32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3wAKavuvr7
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Jeremy stopped the line.
"Hold on," he said. "I gotta fix something."
Shuri looked up from her tablet. The mechanical arms were moving but sluggishly — not keeping pace with the conveyor output, which meant crushed ore was starting to back up on the depot. A small problem now that would become a big problem fast.
Avatar-Jeremy walked over with the particular purposeful stride of someone who already knows what the issue is and just needs to get there to fix it.
He crouched by the first mechanical arm and tapped it once on the side panel. Setting the input surface. Then he walked to the second depot and tapped it twice. Setting the output target. The arm needed to know exactly where it was picking from and exactly where it was putting things — that was the first thing. But that alone wasn't the real problem.
The real problem was power.
He reached into the gauntlet and placed a cogwheel on the floor beside the arm's base. Solid, real, the teeth catching the light. Then on top of the cogwheel he placed a large mechanical arm motor, seating it flush, the connection immediate and mechanical the way Create connections always were — no wiring, no configuration menus, just geometry and rotation doing what geometry and rotation do.
Then he adjusted the RPM.
Two hundred and fifty.
The motor engaged.
The difference was immediate and not subtle. The mechanical arm came alive in a completely different way than before — not the hesitant sluggish reach of an underpowered system but something smooth and quick and deliberate. It swung to the input depot and grabbed with a sound that was unmistakably—
Pop.
Swung to the output depot and released—
Pop.
Back to input—
Pop.
Output—
Pop.
Shuri stood very still and listened to the rhythm establish itself. The arm wasn't rushing. It wasn't straining. It was operating at exactly the speed it was designed for, which turned out to be considerably faster than before, and the pops came in a steady sequence that bounced off the hangar walls with a quality that was almost musical.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
The backup on the depot cleared in about thirty seconds. The conveyor line was fed. The crushing wheels turned. The hot air from the fans moved across the second belt. Ingots came out the other end.
The whole system breathed together now.
Shuri walked slowly along the length of the line, listening to the mechanical arm keep its rhythm behind her.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
"That sound," she said.
"Yeah," Jeremy said.
"That is the sound of something working correctly."
"That's exactly what that sound is," Jeremy agreed.
She stopped at the output end and watched another ingot arrive. Then another. The arm didn't care. The arm just kept going.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
"What was wrong with it before?" she asked.
"Wasn't getting enough rotational force," Jeremy said, coming to stand beside her. "A mechanical arm in Create needs power just like everything else. You can configure it perfectly — tell it exactly where to pick up, exactly where to deposit — but if you don't give it enough RPM it just sort of..." he made a vague tired gesture.
"Struggles," Shuri offered.
"Struggles," Jeremy confirmed. "Two hundred fifty RPM and a proper cogwheel connection and it doesn't struggle anymore."
Shuri made a note on her tablet. Then she looked down the line at the arm still working its steady rhythm, the pop of each pickup and deposit as regular as a heartbeat.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
"In Wakanda," she said, "we have built spacecraft. Cloaking technology. Exosuits powered by the most advanced material on Earth." She paused. "I have never built anything that made a sound that satisfying."
Jeremy had the pharaoh grin.
"Welcome to Create mod," he said.32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbgOUOlR7Dd
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Jeremy stopped the line again.
"Hold up," he said. "We're getting ahead of ourselves. We need storage first. And we need to solve the nugget problem before we go any further."
Shuri looked up. "Nugget problem?"
"Iron nuggets," Jeremy said. "The andocite alloy recipe needs iron nuggets, not iron ingots. And here's the thing—" he paused, already thinking through the logistics, "—I can't set up a mechanical arm to interact with Tom's Simple Storage the way I'd need to for full automation of that conversion. The mod interaction just doesn't work cleanly that way."
"So that step can't be automated."
"We could find a way to automate it eventually," Jeremy said, "but honestly this is the one part of the whole operation where we just need a human counterpart. Someone sitting at the terminal, taking iron ingots and converting them to nuggets as needed. Everything else runs itself. Just not that."
Shuri nodded slowly. "I can assign someone."
"Good. Because everything else I'm about to set up is going to run without anyone touching it."
He reached into the gauntlet.
The vault came out first.
It was substantial. There was no other word for it. It materialized against the hangar wall with a solidity that made the floor feel it — a Tom's Simple Storage vault, fully rendered, fully real, mounted and sealed and ready.
Jeremy turned to Shuri with the expression of someone about to present a number they are personally proud of.
"One vault," he said. "One single vault unit holds one thousand six hundred and twenty stacks of items."
Shuri's stylus stopped moving on her tablet.
"One stack," Jeremy continued, "is sixty four items. Which means—" he let the math sit in the air for just a moment, "—this vault can hold one hundred and three thousand six hundred and eighty items."
Shuri looked at the vault. Then at Jeremy. Then back at the vault.
"In one block," she said.
"In one block," Jeremy confirmed.
She walked over to it slowly, running her scanner along the surface the way she did when something had genuinely surprised her and she needed the data to confirm what her eyes were telling her.
"And you said you can connect this to terminals," she said.
"That's next." Jeremy was already pulling the inventory terminal from the gauntlet — a clean interface panel that mounted flush beside the vault, giving access to everything stored inside. Then the crafting terminal beside it, which pulled materials directly from storage into a crafting interface so whoever was sitting here wouldn't have to carry anything manually.
"So your human operator," Shuri said, pulling up a stool from somewhere in the hangar and setting it in front of the terminals with the air of someone who has already decided she's going to be the first one sitting there, "sits here. They see everything in storage through the inventory terminal. Iron ingots come in from the processing line—"
"Through the second output," Jeremy said, already running a secondary conveyor line from the ore processor toward the vault input. "I'm setting up two separate outputs from the vault. One line feeds raw materials back into the production system. The second line is your retrieval point."
"And the operator takes ingots, converts them to nuggets at the crafting terminal—"
"And feeds the nuggets back into the mixer line for andocite alloy production," Jeremy finished. "That's the only manual step. Everything before it and everything after it runs on its own."
Shuri sat down at the crafting terminal.
She put her hands on the interface.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. The mechanical arm kept its rhythm down the line behind them.
"One hundred and three thousand six hundred and eighty items," she said again, mostly to herself.
"And that's one vault," Jeremy said. "I was thinking we put four of them along that wall."
Shuri looked at the wall.
She looked at Jeremy.
"Four," she said.
"Four," he confirmed.
She turned back to the terminal and said nothing for a moment.
"Jeremy."
"Yeah?"
"How long have you been playing this mod."
Jeremy considered the question honestly.
"Long enough," he said.32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡii9x84CskF
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Shuri was still scanning the vault when Jeremy held up a hand.
"Actually, hold on. I need to correct myself."
She looked up.
"That's not a Tom's Simple Storage vault," Jeremy said. "That's a Create vault. Different thing entirely. And it's not one block either — I said that wrong."
Shuri looked at the structure with fresh eyes. Now that he mentioned it the scale was right there in front of her. She had been so focused on the capacity number that she hadn't stepped back to look at what she was actually standing next to.
"How large is it?" she asked.
"Three blocks by three blocks by nine blocks," Jeremy said. "It's a multiblock structure. You have to build it properly — the dimensions have to be right or it doesn't register as a vault at all. The game checks the structure and validates it before it functions."
Shuri walked the length of it slowly. Three wide. Three deep. Nine long. It dominated that section of the hangar wall in a way that now made complete sense given what it was holding.
"So it earns its capacity," she said.
"Exactly," Jeremy said. "It's not a magic storage box. It's a physical structure with physical dimensions and the capacity reflects that. One thousand six hundred and twenty stacks isn't some arbitrary number — that's what a three by three by nine Create vault holds. You want more storage you build another one."
Shuri made a correction on her tablet, updating the facility documentation.
"That's actually more impressive," she said. "Not less."
"I think so too," Jeremy said. "A magic single block that holds a hundred thousand items is just a trick. A multiblock structure you have to physically construct and place correctly—"
"Is engineering," Shuri finished.
"Is engineering," Jeremy agreed.
She finished her scan of the full structure, walking all nine blocks of its length before coming back to the terminal end.
"Three by three by nine," she said again, looking at her notes. "And you said four of them along this wall."
Jeremy looked at the wall. Ran the numbers in his head.
"We've got the space," he said.
Shuri looked at the wall too. Four Create vaults side by side, each one three wide, three deep, nine long. A storage bank that would hold six thousand four hundred and eighty stacks of material. Four hundred and fifteen thousand three hundred and twenty individual items.
She wrote that number down.
"Okay," she said quietly. "Now I'm impressed."
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
The mechanical arm kept working behind them, unbothered.32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwsWiAvznHo
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Jeremy moved efficiently now, the factory layout clear in his head. He pulled a second Create vault from the gauntlet and built it out — three by three by nine — against the adjacent wall. This one would have one purpose and one purpose only.
"This vault," he said, "holds iron. Nothing else. We're keeping the materials separated so the system doesn't get confused about what goes where."
He transferred the unconverted iron ingots into it — everything that hadn't been processed into nuggets yet — and then loaded the starting supply. Sixteen stacks of iron nuggets, already converted, ready to go into the mixer.
Then he set up the andocite side.
A barrel on the opposite feed point. Sixteen stacks of raw andocite blocks, sourced through the gauntlet, sitting ready. Two conveyor belts running parallel, one from the nugget supply, one from the andocite barrel, both angling toward the center of the setup where the main event was waiting.
The basin.
A wide, deep Create basin sitting solid on the factory floor, and underneath it—
"Jeremy."
Shuri was crouching down, looking at the blaze burner mounted beneath the basin. She had her head tilted at the angle she used when something was both scientifically interesting and also unexpectedly charming.
"Is this little guy—"
"That's a blaze burner," Jeremy said. "It's got a blaze inside it."
Shuri looked closer. Inside the housing, behind the grating, something flickered and shifted — not quite fire, not quite creature, but unmistakably alive in some way that her scanner was going to have a field day with later.
"There is a living thing in there," she said.
"A blaze, yeah. From Minecraft. They live in the Nether. Naturally on fire. The burner just gives it a housing and puts that heat to work." Jeremy reached into the gauntlet and produced a small chest, setting it beside the burner. He opened it and it was full — stacks upon stacks of blaze cakes, golden-orange and dense. He loaded the burner's fuel supply. "You feed it blaze cakes and it stays lit. This load should keep it going five, maybe six hours before it needs more."
Shuri stood up slowly, still looking at the burner with an expression that suggested she had approximately forty questions and was choosing to save them for later.
"We have a conversation to finish about that creature," she said.
"Noted," Jeremy said, already moving.
The basin went on top of the burner. Solid, level, the heat rising into it immediately — not scorching, not open flame, just a steady controlled thermal output that the basin was designed to work with. Then the mechanical mixer dropped into the basin from above, its shaft connected to a cogwheel train running back to a motor, the whole assembly clicking into place with the satisfying logic of a Create build that knew what it was doing.
Both conveyor belts fed into the basin. Iron nuggets from the left. Andocite from the right. The mixer began to turn.
Jeremy watched it for a moment to confirm the feed rates were balanced, then added the output conveyor running from the basin toward the third vault — another full three by three by nine structure built out along the far wall, this one designated for the finished product.
The mixer turned.
The blaze burner glowed.
The conveyors moved.
And after about forty seconds the first andocite alloy ingots began coming off the output belt, riding smoothly toward the third vault, dropping into storage with a quiet regularity that meant the system was doing exactly what it was designed to do.
Pop. Pop. Pop. — the mechanical arm on the ore processor, still keeping time.
And underneath it all the quiet steady heat of a blaze doing its job inside a little housing on the factory floor.
Shuri watched the alloy ingots accumulate in the vault's display counter. Then she looked at the blaze burner again.
"Five to six hours per feeding," she said.
"Give or take."
"And it just— stays in there. Contentedly."
"It's warm," Jeremy said. "Blazes like warm."
Shuri crouched back down in front of the burner grating and looked at the flicker inside for a long moment.
"Hello," she said quietly.
The blaze flickered.
Shuri stood up, made a note on her tablet that Jeremy strongly suspected said something like blaze — follow up, and turned to watch the andocite alloy production line running clean and steady.
"How long to produce enough alloy for the hull?" she asked.
Jeremy did the math in his head.
"With this setup? A few days of continuous running." He paused. "But I was thinking we build a second mixer line beside this one."
Shuri was already looking at the available floor space.
"Cut it to half the time," she said.
"Cut it to half the time," Jeremy confirmed.
She picked up an andocite alloy ingot fresh from the output belt. Still warm from the basin. Dense and complex in the way the raw andocite had been, but refined now — the iron integration giving it a different quality, smoother, more intentional.
She turned it over in her hands.
"Right," she said. "Let's build the second line."32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbe3drpqFjX
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Jeremy stopped mid-step and turned around.
"Actually," he said, "I need to set something up first."
Shuri looked up from the second mixer line layout. "What did you forget?"
"Not forget," Jeremy said. "Plan ahead." He was already reaching into the gauntlet. "Back at the Bell Home I have a Frogport."
Shuri blinked. "A what?"
"A Frogport." He produced one from the gauntlet and set it on the workbench beside the vault. It was exactly what it sounded like — a mechanical frog, sitting atop a basin, built from Create components but unmistakably, cheerfully frog-shaped. It had the solid satisfying weight of something that took its job seriously despite its appearance. "It's a package delivery system. The frog is mechanical but the tongue mechanism is what does the work — it grabs packages off a chain conveyor and deposits them, or it loads packages onto the chain and sends them."
Shuri crouched to look at it at eye level. "This is a frog."
"This is a Frogport," Jeremy corrected. "Different thing. Well. Same thing. But it has a job."
"What's the one at the Bell Home called?"
"Jeremiah."
Shuri looked at him.
"You name them," Jeremy said, with the tone of someone explaining something completely obvious. "So you can address packages to specific ports. The name is how the system knows where things are going. Jeremiah is at the Bell Home. This one—" he patted the new Frogport on its mechanical head, "—is Andy. Because Andy is going to be sending andocite alloy to Jeremiah."
He set Andy up beside the vault output, then reached back into the gauntlet and produced a packager — a compact Create machine that took items from storage and wrapped them into addressed parcels ready for chain conveyance. He mounted it directly beneath Andy, connected it to the vault's output line, and seated Andy on top of the packager with the careful placement of someone who understood that a Frogport needed to be level to work properly.
"Andy sits on top of the packager," Jeremy explained, mostly for Shuri's documentation, "the packager pulls andocite alloy directly from the vault, wraps it, addresses it to Jeremiah, and Andy puts it on the line."
"And the line goes—" Shuri started.
"Through there," Jeremy said.
He opened the portal.
It appeared in the corner of the hangar with a quality that even Shuri — who had seen vibranium do things that physics preferred not to discuss — took a small step back from. On one side, Wakanda. On the other side, visible through the shimmer, the basement of the Samuel W. Bell Home for the Sightless in Cincinnati, Ohio.
A chain drive ran through it. Continuous, steady, the chain links moving at a smooth consistent pace between two continents and whatever dimensional logic connected them.
Andy's packager hummed. The first parcel loaded — andocite alloy ingots, addressed to Jeremiah, wrapped and sealed. Andy's mechanical tongue extended with a motion that was somehow both precise and deeply frog-like, and placed the package onto the chain conveyor on the Wakanda side of the portal.
The package rode the chain through the shimmer and disappeared.
On the other side, visible through the portal, Jeremiah sat in the Bell Home basement beside his own basin and his own vault. His tongue extended, snagged the incoming package off the chain with a movement that was the mirror image of Andy's, and pulled it back. The packager beneath Jeremiah ran in reverse — opening, sorting, depositing. Andocite alloy ingots dropped into Jeremiah's vault in Cincinnati.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Shuri stood at the portal looking through at the Bell Home basement. A mundane cinderblock room with a mechanical frog in it, cheerfully receiving packages from Wakanda via chain conveyor through an interdimensional portal.
She turned to Jeremy.
"Jeremiah," she said.
"Jeremiah," Jeremy confirmed.
"And this one is Andy."
"Because Andy sends to Jeremiah," Jeremy said. "Book of Jeremiah. Andy is the one doing the delivering."
Shuri looked at Andy. Andy sat on his packager looking mechanical and content and completely unbothered by the fact that his tongue had just spanned two continents.
She made a note on her tablet.
It said: Frogports. Follow up. Possibly acquire several.
"Alright," she said, straightening up. "Second mixer line?"
"Second mixer line," Jeremy agreed.
Pop. Pop. Pop. said the mechanical arm.
Andy's tongue extended again with the next package.32Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0wnumHMoLv
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T'Challa walked into the hangar with the measured steps of a king who had learned long ago not to show surprise at things Shuri built. That policy was being tested.
He stood at the entrance and looked at the full length of the facility. The ore processing line. The crushing wheels turning. The mechanical arm going pop pop pop without pause or complaint. The four Create vaults along the wall. The mixer lines with their basins and blaze burners. Andy sitting on his packager. The portal in the corner with its chain drive running quietly between Wakanda and Cincinnati.
He smiled. It was a slow smile. The smile of a man taking inventory.
"What have we got here?"
Shuri took a breath and walked him through it. All of it. The ore processing line and the crushing wheels and the fan-driven thermal smelting system. The vault capacity. The nugget conversion station. The mixer setup and the andocite alloy production rate. Andy and Jeremiah and the Frogport chain between two continents. She explained it in the precise sequential way she documented everything, but T'Challa could hear the undercurrent of genuine enthusiasm she was only partially containing.
He listened to all of it. Then he looked at the gauntlet on Jeremy's hand.
"So this Gamer Gauntlet," he said. "You made all of this with it. You reached in and simply... produced it."
"Everything you're looking at," Jeremy confirmed. "Pulled directly from the game and fully materialized. Real mass, real function, real molecular structure."
T'Challa nodded slowly, walking the length of the facility the way Shuri had when she first saw it. He paused at the mixer line. He looked at the basin. He looked at the cogwheel train running to the mechanical mixer. And then he crouched down, hands clasped, and looked at the blaze burner.
The blaze flickered inside its housing.
T'Challa studied it for a moment.
"And this," he said. "This little fire creature." He looked up at Jeremy. "You simply feed it these cakes and it provides the heat you need."
"Blaze cakes, yeah," Jeremy said. "But there's a bit more to it than that." He came over and crouched beside T'Challa so they were both at burner level. "So in Minecraft, blazes by default are hostile mobs. They live in the Nether — which is basically a fire dimension — and if you encounter one in the wild it absolutely wants to attack you. They shoot fireballs. They're genuinely dangerous."
T'Challa looked at the blaze flickering contentedly behind its grating. "This one does not seem dangerous."
"That's the thing," Jeremy said. "The moment you scoop a blaze up into a blaze burner it becomes completely docile. Something about the housing, the containment, the structure of it — it just... settles. And then you feed it a blaze cake and it's like—" he gestured at the burner, "—okay. I see how this is. You're going to feed me and I have a warm place to live and all I have to do is generate heat. I can do that. That's literally what I am."
T'Challa made a sound that was almost a quiet laugh.
"It made a calculation," he said.
"A very practical one," Jeremy agreed. "Just keep the blaze cakes coming and it will generate whatever heat you need for however long you need it. No aggression. No fireballs. Just—" he nodded at the basin above them where the mixer was turning and the andocite alloy was coming out clean and consistent, "—that."
T'Challa stood up slowly and looked at the blaze burner for another moment with an expression that Jeremy couldn't entirely read but that seemed to contain some genuine respect.
"In Wakanda," T'Challa said, "we have a saying. A warrior who has found peace is more valuable than one who is still looking for a fight."
Jeremy looked at the blaze flickering behind its grating.
"Yeah," he said. "That tracks."
T'Challa straightened his robes and turned to survey the full facility one more time — the lines running, the vaults filling, Andy's tongue extending and retracting with each new package, the portal shimmering quietly in the corner.
"So you no longer need adamantium," he said.
"Didn't need it after all," Jeremy confirmed. "The andocite alloy handles what I needed the adamantium for. And we can produce it right here."
T'Challa looked at his sister. "And the vibranium composite?"
"Ready to begin once the alloy production reaches sufficient volume," Shuri said. "A few more days on the current production rate. Less if the second mixer line performs the way I expect."
T'Challa nodded. Then he looked back at Jeremy with the particular expression of a king who has just decided something.
"You came to Wakanda for materials," he said.
"I did," Jeremy said.
"And instead you built us a factory, taught my sister what Docker is, introduced us to a cooperative fire creature, and connected our hangar to a basement in Cincinnati via a mechanical frog."
Jeremy considered this summary.
"That's about right," he said.
T'Challa smiled. The full one this time.
"You are welcome in Wakanda," he said, "for as long as you wish to stay."
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Andy's tongue extended.
The blaze flickered.
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