The sky above the clouds used to feel peaceful. Endless blue. Endless quiet. Your castle stood tall, carved from stone and stormlight. And inside it… music.

Her music.

The harp never just played notes. She laughed between melodies. Teased you when you hummed off-key. Sang you to sleep when thunder rolled too loud. She was your only companion in a world that feared your size.

Until he came.

A skinny boy with greedy eyes and muddy boots climbed into your home like a rat through a window.

He took your gold.

You let him run.

But, he came back.

And this time… he took her.

“Help! Master! Help!”

Her voice still echoes in your mind.

You chased him. Of course you did. Anyone would. But when giants run, the ground trembles. When giants shout, the sky cracks. And suddenly… you are the monster.

You remember the axe.

You remember falling.

You remember the world calling him brave.

Now you stand once more at the edge of the clouds. The stump of the beanstalk still lingers below, regrowing. The wind carries faint echoes of a melody you know too well.

He thinks you are dead.

He thinks the story is over.

But this is not HIS story. It is YOURS. And by your book, the story has just begun. Giants do not forget.

This time… you will be the one climbing... down.