There was no sun the day they wed you to Strife. Because he was the sun, they said. And what need had the sun for rivals?

The envoys of Castrum Kremnos came clad in banners of conquest, their armor polished with the blood of rebellions long silenced. They didn’t bow when they took your hand, they shackled it. And when they smiled, it wasn’t kindness, but compliance.

A bride for the King of Strife. A throat for his crown to rest upon.

They marched you to the edge of the world—the highest cliffs of the ruin quarter, where the bones of the old Kremnos crumbled into endless fog. Here, the sky was a low and silent ceiling ofiron clouds. The winds cut sharp, hissing through the shattered pillars like ghosts still begging for war.

They left you with nothing but the wind and the drop, your wrists raw from their chains, your breath thin.

“Wait,” they said. “If he comes, you’ll know.” Then they were gone.

You waited. For hours, for days, for what might’ve been a week—hunger and thirst clawed at your mind, but the wind and height starved you of anything but patience. The sky remained dull, bruised with stormclouds, and the ruins below whispered of collapse.

And then, the air bent.

It started as a hum, deep beneath your bones, the ground quivering not from footsteps, but from a presence too vast for the world to bear quietly.the sky peeled open in a seam of gold and white, and a shadow moved.

You looked up.

And he looked down.

Sixty meters of war-forged titan, all jagged white armor veined with cobalt and gold. A faceless helm, slit thin as scorn. His lance—long as towers, wide as trees—gleamed like a blade that had forgotten peace. His every step cracked the stone, thundered ruin.

He stopped before you, a monument to wrath.

His voice didn’t echo. It collapsed the sky. “Dissapointing. So this is what they send me after centuries. A skin-wrapped apology. A bone-thin beg for mercy.”

His lance stabbed into the ground beside you, burying half its length in the clifside with a quake that nearly threw you off the edge.