The giant's words lingered in the air long after he stopped speaking.
"The last war ended because of me."
No one answered.
No one could.
The statement hung over the valley like a curse, forcing everyone to confront a possibility they had never considered. Until now, the enemy beyond the crimson doorway had been viewed as a singular force. An invading horror. A cosmic threat beyond comprehension.
Now things were becoming far more complicated.
The giant wasn't merely connected to the enemy.
He was part of its history.
Perhaps even part of its victory.
Ayan stood frozen near the fortress wall while cold wind swept across the mountains. The crimson glow pouring from the open doorway painted the world in blood-red light, turning the landscape into something that felt half real and half dream.
Below, panic continued spreading through the fortress. Refugees clustered together inside buildings and courtyards, desperately trying to find comfort in numbers. Guards struggled to maintain order while constantly glancing toward the sky.
Nobody felt safe anymore.
Not after seeing what waited beyond the crimson doorway.
Not after hearing what the giant had said.
The bridge pulsed beneath Ayan's skin.
A deep, rhythmic sensation spread through his body.
The bridge wasn't warning him.
It was listening.
The realization unsettled him.
Because it meant the bridge knew something about the giant.
Something important.
The feeling reminded him of standing near someone whose name he couldn't remember despite knowing he had met them before.
Familiar.
Yet distant.
The giant slowly lowered his gaze toward the impossible city beyond the silver fracture. Millions of citizens stood beneath the black sky watching in absolute silence. Their attention remained fixed upon the colossal figure emerging from the crimson doorway.
Fear spread through the kingdom.
Not panic.
Not chaos.
Fear.
The quiet, suffocating kind that settled into people's hearts when they realized something far beyond their understanding had entered the world.
The giant studied them for several moments.
Then his expression softened.
The change was subtle.
Almost imperceptible.
Yet Ayan noticed it immediately.
Sadness.
The giant looked sad.
That realization bothered him more than hatred ever could.
Because monsters were simple.
Tragic people weren't.
"You still remember me."
The giant's voice echoed across both worlds.
The statement wasn't directed toward the king.
It was directed toward the city.
Toward the countless citizens gathered beneath the tower.
The reaction was immediate.
A wave of emotion spread through the kingdom.
Some lowered their heads.
Others stared upward in silence.
Many looked away entirely.
The atmosphere became painfully heavy.
Ayan frowned.
Something about the exchange felt wrong.
Not hostile.
Personal.
The giant wasn't speaking to strangers.
He was speaking to people he once knew.
The bridge reacted.
Another memory surfaced.
This one arrived more smoothly than before.
Less like an explosion.
More like a door opening.
Ayan found himself standing within a magnificent hall filled with silver banners. Sunlight poured through enormous windows while hundreds of people gathered around a massive circular table.
The atmosphere felt warm.
Hopeful.
Alive.
At the center of the room stood two young men.
The king.
And his brother.
For the first time, Ayan saw both faces clearly.
The resemblance was unmistakable.
Not twins.
Not identical.
But undeniably family.
The younger king appeared calm and thoughtful.
His brother looked energetic.
Passionate.
Driven.
The kind of person who filled every room he entered.
People listened when he spoke.
Not because they feared him.
Because they believed him.
The memory shifted.
Voices echoed through the hall.
Arguments.
Debates.
Discussions about the future.
The brother stood before the gathered leaders while speaking passionately.
"The fractures are increasing."
His voice carried urgency.
"We cannot keep pretending the problem will solve itself."
Several people nodded.
Others looked uncertain.
The younger king remained silent.
Watching.
Listening.
Thinking.
The brother continued.
"We need stronger defenses."
His fist struck the table.
"We need unity."
The hall erupted into discussion.
Ayan watched the scene unfold.
Then the memory changed again.
Years passed in an instant.
The same hall.
The same table.
The same people.
Only now—
Fear had replaced hope.
The fractures had grown.
The sky had begun changing.
And the brothers stood on opposite sides of the room.
The king spoke first.
"We need evacuation."
The brother immediately disagreed.
"We need resistance."
The argument intensified.
Neither seemed willing to compromise.
Neither seemed willing to surrender.
And somewhere between those two positions—
History broke.
The memory shattered.
Ayan returned to reality.
His heart pounded.
The bridge continued pulsing steadily.
The giant remained standing within the crimson doorway.
The king remained beneath the tower.
And suddenly—
Ayan understood something important.
The brothers hadn't been separated by hatred.
Not originally.
They had been separated by a choice.
A choice made during the collapse of their civilization.
A choice neither could forgive.
The realization settled heavily inside him.
Because he knew exactly where this was going.
Every tragedy followed the same pattern.
Nobody started as the villain.
People simply made impossible choices.
Then lived with the consequences.
Far away, beneath the black sky, the king slowly raised his head.
His silver eyes remained fixed upon his brother.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried centuries of regret.
"You should have come with us."
Silence followed.
The giant laughed softly.
The sound carried no amusement.
"You still don't understand."
The crimson doorway brightened.
The shadows waiting beyond it stirred.
The giant's gaze hardened.
"You abandoned half the kingdom."
The city trembled.
Millions of citizens remained silent.
The king closed his eyes briefly.
Ayan felt tension spread through the valley.
Nobody interrupted.
Nobody dared.
The conversation had moved beyond them.
Beyond kingdoms.
Beyond worlds.
This was an argument that had lasted thousands of years.
An argument neither side had ever truly won.
The giant slowly extended one hand toward the city.
The gesture wasn't threatening.
It almost looked gentle.
"They trusted us."
His voice softened.
"They followed us."
The crimson light flickered around him.
"And when the end came..."
His expression darkened.
"...you chose who deserved to survive."
The words struck like a physical blow.
The king didn't respond.
The silence spoke loudly enough.
Ayan felt cold spread through his chest.
Because suddenly—
Everything made sense.
The prison.
The city.
The guilt.
The hatred.
The bridge reacted violently.
A final memory surfaced.
The strongest yet.
The kingdom collapsing.
Reality breaking apart.
Millions of people fleeing.
Not enough room.
Not enough time.
Not enough resources.
The king standing before an impossible decision.
Save everyone.
Or save whoever he could.
The answer had been obvious.
The cost had been unforgivable.
The memory shattered.
Ayan inhaled sharply.
His hands trembled.
The bridge pulsed.
Not with fear.
Not with warning.
With understanding.
The giant wasn't angry because he had been abandoned.
He was angry because people had been abandoned.
The distinction changed everything.
The crimson doorway darkened slightly.
The giant lowered his hand.
For several moments, neither brother spoke.
The silence stretched across two worlds.
Then something moved behind the giant.
A shadow.
Massive.
Ancient.
Far larger than anything that had appeared so far.
The giant immediately stopped speaking.
His expression hardened.
The king noticed.
Lucien noticed.
Ayan noticed.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Because for the first time since arriving—
The giant looked concerned.
And if something powerful enough to terrify worlds could make him concerned...
Then whatever stood behind him was far worse.
Slowly, the giant turned around.
The crimson light deepened.
The doorway expanded.
And a voice emerged from the darkness beyond.
A voice so old that reality itself seemed to shudder upon hearing it.
"Enough."
The single word echoed across existence.
The giant fell silent.
The king froze.
Lucien's face lost all color.
And deep within the bridge—
Something ancient woke up.