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Chapter Text

In the kingdom of Hyrule, Princess Zelda was, as usual, deep in research. Scrolls upon scrolls were strewn across her study, each detailing ancient rites, forgotten prayers, and obscure methods for contacting the divine. The latest threat to Hyrule—a particularly stubborn strain of Ganon-blight-fighting bread that made all the sourdough go even more sour—required immediate intervention from the goddesses. This was their ticket to try and mitigate Gloom across Hyrule in a fast and plentiful method, turning one loaf into 20 slices worth to stretch it out. If they could not even perfect a simple loaf...

"Hylia!" Zelda chanted, a small, unlit incense stick clutched in her hand. "Anyone of the Gods above, please! Hear my plea! Your loyal servant seeks guidance! I have been working my butt off trying to figure this recipe for DAYS!" Zelda was mulling over the recipe and felt like she was about to give it all up.

From the corner of the room, Link, who had been patiently waiting for Zelda to finish so they could finally get some real food, yawned. He’d been through this countless times. Zelda’s attempts at divine communication usually ended with a lot of dusty books and a distinct lack of heavenly intervention.

She looked down at the bread she was struggling to make. On the outside, it was hard as a rock and black as malice. In the inside, it was horribly doughy and undercooked, a testament to the utter failure Zelda was in the kitchen.

Deciding to stretch his legs, Link ambled over to the Goddess Statue in the castle's courtyard. It was a beautiful, serene figure, often used by the citizens for quiet reflection. This statue was considered one of the most loved for and cared statue in almost all of Hyrule, given the pristine look it still carried. Link, however, had a slightly different relationship with it.

"Hey, Hylia," Link mumbled, leaning against the statue's base and idly tracing a crack in the stone. "Rough day, huh? All this Ganon stuff is really getting to Zelda. And honestly, the bread's been terrible."

Zelda looked at Link confusingly. She had never seen anyone, in all her life, simply walk up to the goddess statue and simply shoot the breeze with it as if it were a chance meet up with an old friend on a simple walk. She shuffled up to Link, chastising him. "Link, I understand that you feel bored here, but one must approach the goddess with dignity and humility..." She sighed, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Mayhaps I need to remind you how to address the goddess?" 

A low, resonant hum vibrated through the stone, and then, a soft, ethereal voice filled the courtyard. "Indeed, my champion. The blight on the sourdough is a true culinary tragedy. And your princess does tend to overthink these matters."

Link nodded, his eyes off Zelda, who was looking like she just heard 10,000 doves singing at once. "Right? She's always trying to, like, do elaborate rituals and stuff. I just figured, you know, a quick chat would be easier."

"Precisely," the Goddess Statue replied, its eyes seeming to twinkle. "A more direct approach is often best, wouldn't you agree?"

Just then, Zelda, attracted by the strange humming sound, looked up at the statue. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape. She looked from Link, casually chatting with the statue, to the statue itself, which was unmistakably glowing with a faint, golden light.

"Link!" Zelda shrieked, dropping her incense stick. "Are you... are you talking to the Goddess Statue?"

Link turned, a small frown creasing his brow. "Yeah, she's actually pretty chill once you get to know her. Says you overthink things."

The Goddess Statue hummed in agreement. "He speaks the truth, my dear. Perhaps less chanting, more, shall we say, casual conversation?"

Zelda stared, speechless. For years, she had dedicated her life to mastering ancient prayers and elaborate rituals, convinced that divine contact was a delicate, intricate dance. It required giving her dedication and absolute focus. Meanwhile, Link, her perpetually unassuming hero, was apparently just... shooting the breeze with the literal embodiment of Hyrule's divine power.

"You... you can just talk to her?" Zelda finally managed, her voice a whisper.

Link shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, she's always been pretty responsive. Thought everyone could." He paused, then added, "Oh, and she says to tell you the answer to the sourdough problem is to just add a pinch more love to the starter. And maybe less screaming at it."

The Goddess Statue chimed in, "The champion is correct. Love is a potent ingredient."

Zelda slumped against a pillar, utterly defeated. All those years, all that research... and the kingdom's divine connection was apparently just a casual conversation away, held by the one person who seemed to care more about fresh bread than ancient prophecies. Link, the perpetually quiet, seemingly normal hero, was, in fact, so utterly divine that he had the goddesses on speed dial.

"Right," Zelda muttered, rubbing her temples. "Less chanting. More casual conversation. Got it. Anyone up for some un-blighted bread, then?"

...

"Wait, hold on..." Zelda finally managed to articulate, her voice a strangled whisper. "You TALK to the goddess?!"

Link paused his dissertation on dairy. "Uh, yeah? I just did, with Hylia here." He gestured vaguely at the glowing statue. "And before that, I was asking her about the best way to mend my tunic, and she also gave me some great tips on sword polishing. She's pretty good for riddles, though she can be a bit cryptic."

Zelda felt her world, which had been built on years of rigorous academic pursuit and the belief that divine interaction required the dedication of a lifetime, tilt precariously on its axis. "You're telling me," she said, her voice rising, "that while I've been poring over ancient texts, performing sacred rites, and practically pulling my hair out trying to decipher arcane prophecies, you've just been... chatting with them about tunic mending and riddles?!"

Hylia's voice, surprisingly chipper, echoed through the courtyard. "Indeed! Link is quite the delightful conversationalist. And his queries, while perhaps not always kingdom-saving, are certainly... refreshing."

Link nodded. "Yeah, I mean, they're pretty laid-back once you get past the whole 'all-powerful cosmic being' thing. You just gotta be yourself."

Zelda's jaw dropped. "Be myself?" She gestured wildly at the dusty books and discarded incense sticks scattered around her. "I've been trying to be reverent! Dignified! Worthy of their attention!"

"Oh, you're worthy, dear," Hylia interjected. "Just a bit... stiff. Like a new shield, you know? Needs a good beating to get it limber."

Link winced slightly. "Maybe not that last part, Hylia."

Zelda, however, was no longer listening. Her gaze was fixed on Link, a new, unsettling understanding dawning in her eyes. It wasn't just that he could talk to the goddesses. It was the implication.

"Link," she said, her voice now dangerously calm. "Do you... do you know why you can just casually converse with the divine while the rest of us are struggling to get a whisper?"

Link blinked, genuinely confused. "Uh, no? I just figured it was... normal. Isn't it?"

Zelda's eyes narrowed. "No, Link. It is not normal. It is, in fact, incredibly, profoundly, and perhaps terrifyingly abnormal." She took a step closer, circling him slowly. "The goddesses do not speak to just anyone, Link. They speak to... well, they speak to their chosen. Their champions. Those with a direct, unbreakable link to their divine essence."

She stopped in front of him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Link... are you aware that you're practically divine?"

Link's brow furrowed. "Divine? Me? Nah, I just really like talking about bread. And swords." He looked at Hylia. "Right?"

The Goddess Statue remained silent for a moment, a rare pause that seemed to speak volumes. Then, a soft, almost regretful sigh echoed. "Perhaps," Hylia said, her voice filled with a hint of amusement, "it was simply easier this way. For everyone involved."

Zelda put her face in her hands. "He has no idea," she mumbled, shaking her head. "He has absolutely no idea." Zelda slowly raised her head from her hands, her expression a mixture of awe, horror, and a touch of something that looked suspiciously like a migraine. "Link," she began, her voice strained, "you do understand that most people have to spend years, sometimes decades, in spiritual training to even hope for a hint of divine favor, right?"

Link scratched his head. "Really? I just figured it was like, you know, talking to anyone else. A bit more glowy, maybe, but still just talking." He paused, then added, "Actually, I've been doing it for ages. Since I was a kid, actually."

Zelda's jaw went slack again. "Since you were a kid?"

"Yeah," Link confirmed, as if this were the most normal revelation in the world. "I remember when I was like, 9 or 10, right after mom passed, I found this Goddess Statue in a forgotten grove near my village. I'd tripped and scraped my knee, and I just kinda whined to it about how much it stung. And then this really nice lady's voice told me to just rub some cool moss on it. Cleared right up!"

The Goddess Statue in the courtyard gave a soft, amused hum. "He was a rather delightful little whiner. And quite receptive to natural remedies."

Zelda's eyes were wide. "So... you've been casually consulting with Hylia for your childhood scrapes?"

"Pretty much," Link said with a shrug. "Oh, and there was this other statue, a really creepy one with horns. Use to be in Hateno Village until I found out they moved to under Lookout Landing. I used to ask it if I could trade some of my stamina for hearts. It was kind of a jerk before, took a heart and acted like it was no big deal, but he got more friendly the more I visited. Said it 'appreciated my ambition.'"

The Goddess Statue coughed delicately. "We... prefer not to acknowledge the more... unconventional acquaintances the champion has made over the years."

Zelda, however, was now fixated on the Horned Statue. "You mean the Horned Statue? The one that deals in life-force and desires?" Her voice was barely a squeak. "You traded  LIFE with the Horned Statue?"

Link nodded brightly. "Yep! It was way better when I needed one more than the other and didn't want to deal with shrines. And then there's the Bargainer Statue. When I was down in the Depths, I used to collect Poes from everywhere down there—they made excellent nightlights, you know—and I'd take them to this shadowy statue guy. He'd always offer me weapons or sometimes even rare ingredients for my cooking. He was really good at bartering."

Zelda felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. The Bargainer Statue wasn't just some shadowy guy. He was a being of ambiguous alignment, often associated with the realm of the dead and the collection of lost souls. And Link had been treating him like a particularly well-stocked general store.

"Link," Zelda said, her voice trembling slightly, "do you understand that these are not just... people you've been talking to? These are ancient, powerful entities. Beings of immense spiritual significance, both good and... well, less good."

Link frowned, clearly struggling to grasp the gravity of her words. "But they're all just, you know, there. Like the stable hands, or the shopkeepers. Just... a bit more magical, maybe." He looked at the Goddess Statue, then back at Zelda. "Are you saying... I'm special for talking to them?"

Zelda sighed, running a hand over her face. "Link, you're not just 'special.' You're like... you're like if the very concept of heroism took a stroll through Hyrule, occasionally stopped to chat with a literal deity about its chores, and then wondered why everyone else was so surprised. You are, for all intents and purposes, a living, breathing, incredibly oblivious conduit to the divine."

Link's eyes widened slightly. "So... I am divine?"

The Goddess Statue chose that moment to chime in again, a hint of exasperation in its ethereal voice. "For Hylia's sake, yes, Champion. Just try to keep that information under wraps for a little while longer, won't you? Some revelations are best delivered with a bit of a dramatic flair."

Link stood there for a moment, the revelation slowly sinking in. His brow furrowed in thought, a rare sight for the usually straightforward hero. He tapped his chin, then looked at Zelda, his eyes still a bit wide.

"So... divine," he repeated, mulling over the word. "Like, really divine? Not just 'good at sword fighting' divine?"

Zelda nodded slowly. "Precisely. It's why the Master Sword chooses you, why the spirit of the hero resides within you, and why the gods speak to you as if you're an old friend."

Link's eyes drifted to the Goddess Statue, then back to Zelda, a new chain of thoughts clearly forming. "Well, that explains some things, I guess. Like, I've met the dragons, you know? Farosh, Naydra, Dinraal. Sometimes I even cook with their scales or horns." He shuddered slightly. "They don't seem to mind. Naydra's scales make a surprisingly good elixir for cold resistance, by the way."

Zelda blinked. "You... you cook with pieces of divine dragons?"

"Yeah!" Link chirped, completely missing her horror. "And the blue horse, that furry thing with like 4 eyes? He sometimes lets me ride on his back. Like, if I've been good at clearing out monsters, he'll just show up and let me catch a ride. It's pretty sweet."

Zelda paled. "The Lord of the Mountain? He's a sacred protector of the forest, not... not a divine transport!"

"Oh, and the Great Fairies," Link continued, as if ticking items off a mental list. "I always thought they were just, like, really enthusiastic tailors. They fix my armor, give me advice on where to find the best materials. One of them even complimented my hair once."

"They're manifestations of concentrated magic and nature!" Zelda cried, her voice rising in pitch. "They don't just 'fix' your armor; they imbue it with their essence!"

Link's eyes glazed over for a moment, a far-off look in them. "And... and sometimes, when things get really bad, or when I'm just feeling lonely, I can sort of... see our friends. From the Calamity. Like Mipha, and Daruk, and on some occasions Urbosa and Revali. They usually just give me a nod, or a little wink. I always thought it was just, you know, my imagination. Or maybe a really vivid memory. They let me use their abilities, but often say how tiring it is to have to channel it through me and need a quick rest."

Zelda felt a lump form in her throat. The spirits of the Champions, lost to the Calamity, friends Zelda had more or less sent to their death to help fight a demon hell-bent on destruction... who were visible only to those with profound spiritual sight, or in moments of extreme emotional distress. That Link could see them, casually, spoke volumes about his connection to the very fabric of Hyrule's soul.

"Link," Zelda said, her voice now softer, filled with a mix of wonder and despair. "You don't just talk to the goddesses. You're practically walking among them. You're intertwined with every aspect of Hyrule's divine and spiritual existence, and you've been doing it your entire life without realizing."

Link pondered this, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So... does that mean I get, like, extra dessert? Because I'm divine?" Link considered Zelda's explanation, still munching on a small, unblighted scone he'd apparently conjured from thin air during his earlier conversation with Hylia. "So, I'm divine," he mused, "but... that's not, like, new for my family, is it?"

Zelda blinked, utterly bewildered. "What do you mean, 'not new for your family'?"

Link shrugged. "Well, I've met a few of my ancestors. They all seemed to have a pretty good rapport with the divine, too. Like, there's my ancestor from the Twilight era," he began, counting on his fingers. "When he was traveling with me as his wolf form, he would sometimes go human and share stories with me by the fire. He told me he actually had chatted with the Light Spirits alot of the time. Said they could see that he was really into gardening and kept complaining about how loud his howl was sometimes. They could hear it from the realm they were in."

Zelda's jaw went slack. The Light Spirits of the Twilight Realm were ancient, revered beings, usually appearing as majestic, ethereal beasts. The idea of them having "chats" and complaining about a "howl" was almost too much for her academic mind to process.

"And then there's the one from the Wind era," Link continued, seemingly oblivious to Zelda's mounting distress. "He said the Fairy Queen thought he was 'adorable' and kept trying to braid flowers into his hair. He called her clingy. She even gave him special arrows of fire and ice so he could always have her helping him."

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut. The Great Fairy Queen, a being of immense power and capricious whims, acting as an "clingy" woman to a past hero? It was unheard of.

"Oh, and the ancestor from the Time era," Link went on, his eyes lighting up. "He actually walked in the Sacred Realm! Said it was a bit dusty, but the view was nice. And he even had a conversation with the great fairies of Courage, Wisdom and Power once, about whether destiny was truly 'set in stone' or if you could kinda nudge it a bit. He said they were pretty philosophical about it and gave them powers of the other gods. Din's Fire, Nayru's Love, Farore's Wind... Really useful, wish I had that."

A strangled gasp escaped Zelda's lips. The Sacred Realm was the resting place of the Triforce, a hallowed dimension that few mortals had ever glimpsed, let alone casually traversed and engaged in philosophical debates with the divine followers of the other goddesses in the land.

"And of course," Link concluded, as if saving the best for last, "there's the very first one, the one from the Sky era. He, uh, he actually married Hylia... Or at least, like, her first reincarnation. She's my distant ancestor, I guess? He said she was a bit bossy about keeping their Loftwing fed, but otherwise, a great partner."

The Goddess Statue in the courtyard let out a sound that could only be described as a celestial groan. "Must we bring up ancient history, Champion? Some details are best left in the annals of time."

Zelda, however, was past groaning. She was past screaming. She simply stood there, staring at Link, her mind reeling. Her family, the Royal Family of Hyrule, had spent millennia safeguarding the kingdom, studying ancient prophecies, and honoring the divine. And all this time, the answer to Hyrule's deepest spiritual mysteries, the very nature of its connection to the gods, had apparently been a casual family affair for the silent hero lineage, passed down from one divine-adjacent Link to the next.

She finally managed a single, choked word. "Link... your family tree is less of a tree and more of a direct hotline to the divine pantheon."

Chapter Text

As Link listened intently to Zelda's words, calling his entire family it seems, a direct line to the very PANTHEON of Hyrule, Zelda's eyes slowly drifted to the scone in his hand. "Link, where did you get that? Link, look at me," Zelda said, an eyebrow raising in fear as the Goddess statue hummed softly behind them. "Where did you get that?"

Link, who had just taken another bite out of the scone, merely offered her a food stained smile. "Oh, I keep stuff like this in my pockets with everything else." He shrugged, taking another hearty bite of it, the cream still residing on the sides of his cheeks.

Zelda leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Pockets?" she lowered her gaze to his suspiciously flat trousers— "You are telling me, you just have... scones... In your pockets?"

Tossing the last bit into his mouth, a satisfied 'mmm' following after, Link shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, my pockets. Hold on, I got more stuff in here, want to see?"

Before Zelda could answer, Link reached into his back pocket—a pocket that, by all accounts, should have only contained several rupees or perhaps a stray acorn. With a faint shimmer of light, he pulled out a full, gleaming Knight's Broadsword, followed by a freshly roasted Hyrule Bass still sizzling slightly. He then produced a complete Soldier's Armor set, piece by piece, as if unzipping a tiny, invisible storage unit. Next came a handful of glistening Moblin Guts, a perfectly ripe Big Hearty Radish, and finally, a neatly folded Zora Armor set, looking as if it had just been ironed out. Link then proceeded to reach into his pocket again, this time digging deep as his entire armed disappear into the pocket. Zelda watched, horrified, as he slowly, deliberately, pulled out… a whole Gerudo Spear... attached to another Gerudo Spear.

Zelda stared, then burst out laughing. "That's it, I've gone mad. There is no other possible explanation for this. Link, be a darling and pull out something I may bash my skull in with." she said, shaking her head. "The blunter or harder, the better. I wish to end my crazy hallucinations in a matter most fit for a deranged princess. Mayhaps a whole Pebblit if you're carrying one." 

The  statue behind her giggled, a gentle hum to its joy, "No, my dear, you have not gone mad. This is merely one of the... many aspects that my Champion possesses." The light glistened slightly, as if proud.

Link looked around, bewildered. "So, you can't do this? It's only me?" He gestured to the impressive, and frankly impossible, pile of gear and provisions now lying on the courtyard stones. "I always just thought it was a really big pocket. Or, you know, just something everyone could do. Like, where else would you keep all your stuff when you're out adventuring? It's much better than a backpack."

Zelda stared, speechless. Her eyes darted from the impossible bounty at Link's feet to his utterly earnest, bewildered face. Her earlier revelations about his divine connections, his casual chats with deities, and his ancestral hotline to the heavens, her thinking she had gone mad suddenly clicked into place with this new, gravity-defying feat. She let out a long, slow breath, a mix of exasperation and grudging admiration. "Link," she finally managed, her voice a low murmur, "that, my dear hero, is basically a pocket dimension storage... It's an incredibly rare, incredibly powerful magical ability. And yes, it is almost certainly a perk of being... well, you."

Link's eyes widened. "Pocket dimension? So it's not just a really big pocket?"

"No, Link," Zelda confirmed, running a hand through her hair. "It's not just a really big pocket. Most people struggle to carry more than a few bundles of arrows, bundles of wood, some potions, an insect or two and a canteen in a massive backpack. You're carrying many bits of arsenal and armory in your trousers."

"An adventurer should always be prepared when out, my child." The Goddess Statue's voice hummed. "I really do suggest you stop right here though, Champion."

His eyes looked up excitedly. "But there's still so much I'm carrying, hold on!" As Zelda watched Link reach into essentially just a portal to a dimension Zelda fears, if ever accessed, could swallow all of Hyrule, her face grew more pale by the second. Placed next to the neatly folded Soldier's Armor and Zora's Armor came more sets. First, the Royal Guard Armor, a uniform meant for only the strongest soldiers in all of Pre-Calamity Hyrule, a set very few had ever even glimpsed in pictures. Next came the sets of Ember, Charged and Frostbite. Zelda recognized these armors, they were set special for only those in the era of Rauru and Sonia that were used in ancient rituals to honor the Elemental Dragons themselves. After that... A full suit of armor, that did not even bulge the pocket coming out. The Phantom Armor, armor that was once worn by beings thought to have terrorized past heroes... and here they all were, fresh from Link's back pocket.

His face lit up again, "And that's only some of the armor! I still have like..." He looked up and closed his eyes, thinking about it as if all the contents of his inventory scrolled passed him "Im also carrying like 11 swords, 6 axes and 3 spears... 7 bows 10 shields..." He stopped counting on his hands, as if he did not need to even think of the quantity. "569 brightbloom seeds, 54 Bomb Flowers..." Zelda's eyes slowly got wide as he went through all the flora in his pockets... "18 Keese Eyes, about 20 of each Gleeok Horn, 9 SIlver Lynel Saber Horns..." She started to stumble... "42 Topaz, 30 Diamonds, 18 Sapphires..." She could not take it anymore.

"STOP!" Zelda shouted, snapping Link out of his inventory thinking. "I HAVE HAD IT, LINK, YOU CANNOT JUST SAY YOU HAVE ALL THESE THINGS SIMPLY IN YOUR POCK-" She stopped, watching him drop some of everything he had described.

...

Horns... Gem stones... Various fruits and plants...

"I could drop more, but I don't want to empty out." Link smiled sheepishly, picking up everything again one by one and putting them back in his pocket. "Unlike weapons, that stuff doesn't seem to have a limit. I might need to try to convince Hestu if he can upgrade the weapon stash parts of my inventory... There definitely should be more Korok seeds laying around. What does he even do with all those little smelly rocks, they're not just for his maracas, are they..?" That... That question is on the backburner in Zelda's head.

Zelda sat on the ground, mortified as she gazed where everything was just laying at. "T-this should not be possible... Divination, spirit seeing, talking to the GODS even, I can believe... But this is... No mortal body can take this, lugging it all around would surely cause a heart to burst from strain..."

Link tilted his head. "That does damage? What about the other hearts, surely those can handle them."

She did not even bother looking up. "..." Her eye twitched. "What?" The sheer absurdity of Link's nonchalance statement about other hearts was filling her with her growing sense of dread. He kneeled in front of her to be at eye level with Zelda. "Yeah, other hearts. For me, when I get hurt or something, it just takes away a few hearts for a while until I sleep or eat something."

Another soft laugh came from the statue, "Oh, Champion, I do hope you are not taking for granted the blessings of life given to you. Surely you are not being reckless with taking damage."

Link's eyes lit up even further. "Oh! So then, is that also why I can survive... well, you know. All the stuff that would usually turn people into dust?"

Zelda braced herself. "What 'stuff,' Link?"

"Like, getting hit by direct lightning," Link began, as if it were a common inconvenience. "I mean, sometimes it hurts, and all my metal gear flies off, but then I'm fine. Just a bit tingly. And then I can go pick up my stuff. I always figured it was just, you know, good posture or something."

Zelda's jaw went slack for the third time that morning. "Link, people die from direct lightning strikes! They don't just get 'a bit tingly' and then go collect their scorched equipment!"

"Oh, and getting lit on fire," Link continued, unperturbed. "Like, if I run through a lava pit for a shortcut, or a fire Wizzrobe gets me. I just stand around abit, eat some apples, and I'm good. I thought everyone just had, like, really strong skin."

"You... you walk through lava?!" Zelda shrieked. "Link, that's not 'strong skin'! That's... that's defying the laws of physics!"

"And getting frozen solid!" Link added, practically giggling now that he was getting answers to these long-held curiosities. "Like, when I'm climbing Mount Lanayru and a Frost Gleeok blasts me. I just thaw out. Takes a minute, but then I'm fine. A little chilly, but fine. Always wondered why no one else ever seemed to want to take the shortcuts I did."

Zelda could only stare, her face a mask of utter disbelief. She had witnessed Link survive these things, of course. She'd always attributed it to his incredible strength, his determination, perhaps even a localized burst of courage from the heroic spirit. But never, not once, had she considered that he simply didn't die from things that would instantly obliterate any other mortal.

"And explosions!" Link exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "Like, if I accidentally drop a bomb too close to myself, or a Guardian blasts me and I miss the parry. I just get flung really far, maybe lose a few hearts, but I always get back up. I figured it was just... being good at tucking and rolling."

Zelda finally found her voice, though it was barely a whisper. "Tucking and rolling, Link? You think surviving a direct explosion is about tucking and rolling?! The Guardians DESTROYED Hyrule, you KNOW this!"

"And the falls from the sky," Link finished, his eyes wide as he looked up at the castle parapets, then back at her. "You know, when I glide off a sky island and misjudge the landing, or just get knocked off a high cliff. I just, like, bounce. Sometimes I break a leg, but then I eat a Hearty Mushroom Skewer and it's all better." He paused, a genuinely confused expression on his face. "So... this is all part of being divine? Like a divine... bouncy castle?"

Zelda closed her eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, Link. Yes, your inexplicable, utterly illogical ability to survive catastrophic physical trauma, your seemingly endless 'pockets,' your casual conversations with literal gods and ancient spirits, and your family's millennia-long direct line to the divine... it's all because you are, in every measurable way, practically a deity in mortal form." She opened her eyes and looked at him, a resigned weariness in her gaze. "And please, for the love of Hylia, stop calling Hyrule a 'divine bouncy castle.'"

Link just nodded slowly, absorbing this new information. "So... no more direct lightning tests for fun, then?"

Zelda merely groaned. "That's it, I'm taking you to Purah."

Chapter Text

Purah's lab, a chaotic symphony of whirring machinery, sparking wires, and the faint smell of burnt hair, buzzed with an unusual tension. Zelda had dragged Link here, demanding a "scientific explanation" about his unusual abilities. Purah peered at Link through thick spectacles, a cynical smirk playing on her lips. Robbie, ever the flamboyant eccentric man, leaned against a workbench, polishing a Guardian part, his goggles looking in two different places.

"So, Princess," Purah began, tapping a stylus against her Purah Pad, "you're telling us our dear hero, Linky, here, has been... chatting with the gods about his daily life? And he thinks he has thirty-eight hearts?" She snorted. "Honestly, Princess, has he finally hit his head one too many times?"

Robbie chuckled, a theatrical laugh that echoed through the lab. "Ah, Link! Always a strong one, but divine? And pocket dimensions? My boy, even with all my research into ancient tech, that's a bit of a stretch! Perhaps too much dubious food, eh?"

Zelda sighed, exasperated. "Believe me, I wouldn't have brought him if I wasn't absolutely certain. He told me about his ancestors, him getting rides from the Lord of the Mountain, even the Great Fairies treating him like he's Hyrule's greatest bachelor! It's all... it's all part of something far grander than we imagined."

Purah waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense! Extravagant tales, perhaps a bit of lingering amnesia playing tricks on his mind. Linky's a brave knight, yes, but a divine conduit? That's pushing it, even for me."

"Indeed!" Robbie added, striking a heroic pose. "The only true power comes from scientific ingenuity and a healthy dose of rock 'n' roll spirit!"

Link, who had been patiently listening, finally spoke up, a calm, almost serene look on his face. "I mean, all I gotta do is snap my fingers, and..."

With a casual flick of his wrist, Link snapped his fingers. In his ear, it was like he could hear the faint sound of Urbosa's voice. The sound, impossibly loud, seemed to ripple through the very air. Outside the lab's reinforced windows, a perfectly clear, cerulean sky suddenly cracked with a blinding flash. A bolt of pure, raw lightning, thick and jagged, slammed into a lone tree perched right in front of the lab. The tree exploded into a shower of splinters and embers, a puff of smoke marking its instantaneous demise. The sound of the thunderclap, delayed by distance, shook the lab moments later, rattling beakers and making Purah's spectacles slide down her nose.

Purah, who had been mid-scoff, froze, her jaw hanging open. Robbie's polished Guardian part clattered to the floor. Both of them stared, their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe, at the smoking crater where the tree had been.

"See?" Link said, turning back to them with an innocent shrug. "Just like that. Always wondered if that was a normal thing to be able to do. It's really handy when you need to clear a path or, you know, just warm up your dinner really fast." He then reached into his "pocket" again, pulling out a perfectly toasted apple, which he promptly popped into his mouth.

Purah slowly, shakily, pushed her glasses back up her nose. Her usual vivacious energy had completely drained away, replaced by a pallor. "Well, I'll be a Goron's uncle..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Robbie, for once, was utterly silent, his rock 'n' roll swagger completely deflated. He just stood there, staring at the smoking remains of the tree, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Zelda, a small, triumphant, yet utterly exhausted, smile on her face, crossed her arms. "Now do you believe me?" she asked, her gaze sweeping between the two utterly dumbfounded scientists. "Or should he call down a rain of rupees next?" 

Purah and Robbie were still frozen in stunned silence, their faces a pale imitation of their usual vibrant selves. The distant scent of burnt tree still wafted on the breeze. Zelda, however, merely puffed out her chest, a resigned acceptance settling over her that she was not insane.

"No, Zelda," Purah said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He doesn't need to summon a rain of rupees. The lightning strike was quite... persuasive."

Link, however, seemed to take this as a challenge. "Oh, I can't do money rain," he corrected, waving a dismissive hand. "That's not my thing. Firestorms, lightning strikes, hurricanes, and summoning rain on accident, yeah, but not call rupees from the sky. That'd be too much for me." He paused, then his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Unless you want to see a hurricane? It's pretty cool, though it makes a bit of a mess."

Before Zelda could even open her mouth to protest, Link knelt on the ground, focusing. The air in the lab crackled, the gentle hum of Purah's machinery suddenly overwhelmed by an ominous, low rumble from outside AND inside. The once clear sky outside the window began to churn, dark, bruised clouds rapidly gathering and swirling with impossible speed. Within seconds, a fierce wind whipped through the courtyard and inside the lab itself, tearing at trees and sending loose debris scattering. A distant, guttural roar filled the air as a miniature hurricane began to form around him, its spiraling vortex visible even from the village below. Rain, thick and torrential, began to lash against the windows, quickly turning into a rainstorm. The doors began to slam and shake, the windows shaking and one even shattering. 

Purah let out a strangled yelp, clutching her Purah Pad to her chest. Robbie, who had finally found his voice, screamed, "My research notes! They'll be soaked!"

Link, completely unbothered by the sudden meteorological chaos he'd unleashed, watched the mini-hurricane with a serene expression. "See? I told you it makes a mess. Or if you want a firestorm, I can do that too. Good for clearing out those pesky monster camps." 

He snapped his fingers once more. The hurricane, as quickly as it had formed, dissipated, leaving behind only the sound of heavy, normal rain. Then, with another snap, a patch of barren ground on the distant Hyrule Ridge suddenly erupted into a terrifying inferno, a firestorm of impossible intensity, flames leaping dozens of feet into the air as if he was using a fire wand, this time it being himself that's the weapon.

"Or just strikes of lightning," Link offered, snapping his fingers repeatedly, causing rapid-fire bolts to harmlessly pepper the landscape in the distance, each accompanied by a rolling crack of thunder. "Always useful for, you know, getting attention. Or just to make sure things are fully cooked."

Zelda, her face a mask of weary resignation, watched as her hero, the stoic and unassuming Link, effortlessly summoned natural disasters with the casualness of ordering a meal. Purah and Robbie, meanwhile, had huddled together in the corner of the lab, whimpering softly.

Purah, having recovered from her initial shock, slowly uncurled from her huddled position next to Robbie. Her scientific curiosity, though momentarily overshadowed by abject terror, was now reignited with an intensity that bordered on manic. "The... the hearts," she stammered, her voice a reedy whisper. "Linky... the thirty-eight hearts. Is that real too? Like, can you... show us?"

Link, who had just finished off eating some Salt-Grilled Meat, nodded serenely. "Oh, yeah. But I usually need a good nap first to really show them off. Been a busy day, you know? Talking to goddesses, accidentally summoning hurricanes..." He stifled a yawn. "Just gotta get some rest."

Before anyone could object, Link ambled over to a cot in the corner of the lab – a cot meant for napping during long experiments, certainly not for literally shifting celestial bodies. He laid down, pulled a rough blanket over himself, and closed his eyes.

Outside the lab's window, the sun, which had been high in the midday sky, began to move. Not slowly, gracefully, as it should, but with an impossible, sickening acceleration. The blue sky deepened to orange, then crimson, as the sun streaked towards the western horizon. In a matter of seconds, stars burst into view, and the moon, a brilliant orb, hurtled upwards from the east, taking its place in the now starry black sky.

The rapid shift caused a dizzying effect, the light and shadows outside flickering wildly as if Hyrule itself was suffering from a cosmic seizure. Purah and Robbie, who had been about to protest Link's impromptu nap, instead found themselves clutching onto anything stable, their eyes wide with unadulterated fear.

From the Goddess Statue in the castle courtyard, a weary, ethereal voice echoed, barely audible above the sudden, unnatural sounds of the rapidly rotating celestial sphere. "Well, he did say it was time for his nap. And when the Champion says it's nighttime... it's nighttime."

Purah was on her knees outside her house. Her eyes were locked on the moon, the same same celestial body bigger than kingdoms, the sea and any known body of land... simply rose. When Link and Zelda got here, it was around 1pm at latest... The Sun and Moon's position said it was now 9pm. 

Robbie, on the other hand, simply backed away in fear. No scientific reason can explain this, it was as if Link was deciding when very order of the sun and moon simply to get some shut eye. 

Stirring from his rest with a loud yawn, and getting a face from Zelda that looked like she witnessed the last thread of sanity in the world disappear. She had hoped Purah and Robbie could provide... even something, or at the very much fall into the same confused and terrified boat she was in.

"There we go..." Link sat up, stepping out of bed as he casually paused time real quick to change his clothes right in front of everyone, swapping from his Champion's Tunic to his Sheikah Armor. "So you wanted to see my hearts?"

Purah slowly turned around, shakingly holding her Purah Pad. "Y-yeah, Linky, uh... Just... Just please do me a favor and, um... Stay there."

Robbie and Purah looked at their special Purah Pad, turning on a special version of the camera rune they had previously used for seeing though objects to find lost things. All they do is lower the power of it to show what is INSIDE things. She held up the pad to look inside Link's chest.

"Oh. Oh, my Goddess." Purah was at a major loss for words. Robbie felt like he was going to throw up. Zelda, however, was feeling scarily vindicated. 

Inside Link's chest pumped not one, not two, but a disgusting pulsating mass that what could only be described as 38 hearts beating in succession at once. There were no sign of liver. There was no sign of lungs. There was no sign of stomach.

Hearts.

All of it was hearts.

She stopped shaking and grabbed Link's arm, her eyes wide with a mixture of scientific fascination and pure, unadulterated panic. "Do you feel... heavy? Do you have trouble standing upright? Are your other organs just... smushed against your back? How are they all fitting in there?! The sheer biomass alone is staggering!" She looked around all over, the Purah Pad showing all of it was the organ that keeps the flow of blood moving.

Link, still calm, merely offered a small, reassuring nod and a quiet "Hmph." He patted his chest, indicating everything was fine.

Purah stared at him, then back at the screen, then back at him again. Her mind raced, trying to understand the biological impossibility with the very real, very healthy Hylian standing before her. This wasn't just an anomaly; it was a fundamental challenge to everything she thought she knew about Hyrulean physiology... or mythology now.

"This changes everything ," she breathed, a manic breathing routine hitting her lungs. "We need more tests. A full dissection – not literally, d-don't worry, Linky! – but we need to understand the structural integrity, the magical amplification, the… the POTENTIAL! Maybe... Maybe we can figure out if this is a controlled thing, like can you make your body produce multiple organs of different types? "

Link just smiled faintly, perhaps a little amused by her dramatics, or perhaps just happy to be looked at. Purah, however, was far from calm. She had just stumbled upon a marvel, a living testament to the sheer absurdity of it all, and frankly, it freaked her out a little bit... Okay, it freaked her out a lot.

"Thirty-eight hearts," she muttered to herself, already jotting frantic notes. "The Hero of Hyrule: now with extra redundant biological systems. Incredible. And terrifying." Her eyes dilated. "Wait, Link, where is your stomach?"

"Hold on." Zelda looked to Purah's fridge. When she opened it, she didn't see much, aside from a few items, but did stumble upon the ingredients needed for Meat and Seafood Curry. She went out back to get to cooking and brought it back to Link about half an hour later, with a stick on fire in the other hand. "Hey, Link... hold still."

Zelda lit him on fire.