Bilal woke up fourteen hours later. The drug left a heavy, sickening fog in his brain.
He stumbled out of his bedchamber and into the Great Hall. The smell of copper and smoke filled the air.
He saw Runa sitting by the fire. Her armor was dented. Her blonde hair was matted with dried, dark blood. She was staring blankly into the flames, her hands shaking slightly.
Bilal stopped. The crushing, suffocating realization of what she had done for him hit his chest like a battering ram. He had wanted to protect her from the darkness of the world, and instead, the world had forced her to become the darkness.
Astrid walked up beside him. She wrapped her arms around Bilal's waist. She looked at the stone walls, the wealth, the surviving children, and her victorious, blood-soaked daughter.
Astrid looked up at Bilal with a sad, proud smile.
"We survived, my love," Astrid whispered, trying to bring light into his dark eyes. "You built a fortress that even Kings cannot break. Look how far you have reached from the day you arrived in the snow. I think... I think your people from the Old World would be very proud of you."
Bilal looked at his wife. He looked at his hands, which had snapped necks and mixed gunpowder. He looked at Runa, traumatized by the butchery she had committed to save him.
He had started this journey with the morals of a 21st-century student. He had believed in human rights. He had believed in mercy.
But survival had demanded a different currency.
A sound escaped Bilal's throat. It started as a dry cough, then evolved into a low, rumbling, broken laugh. It was a bitter, terrifying sound that held absolutely no joy.
"My people?" Bilal whispered, his voice cracking with a sorrow so deep it echoed off the stone. "My people..."
He looked up at the ceiling of the Viking hall he had built, tears welling in his dark, tired eyes.
"My people would not be proud of me, Astrid," Bilal said, a sad, empty smile touching his lips. "My people would lock me in a cage. They would call me a monster. A tyrant. A warlord who uses poison and fire."
He pulled Astrid closer, resting his forehead against hers, accepting his terrifying evolution.
"The boy who came from the Old World died a long time ago in the freezing mud," Bilal whispered softly, the truth finally setting him free. "I am not one of them anymore. I am the Giant of Axiomra. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you breathing."