[ He just ignores Dirk's critique 'cause haters b hatin'. ]

It could be reacting with the planet itself, maybe. Nothing would surprise me.

[ He watches the rock pulsate for a few more beats before turning his attention to the first metal, holding it to the light and watching it glow. There would be a certain poetic quality to making a sword out of material like this... ]

All possessions have an identity. The longer they have relationships with people, the more those people share themselves with that possession, the stronger that identity gets. I suspect your sword hasn't forgotten itself yet, Dirk. Mending it should be doable.

[ He sets the metal back in place. ]

It'll take on a magical nature, though. Do you mind?