Third-Person – Link's POV – Tone: Somber, introspective, a quiet storm of emotion building
---
Pain.
That was the first thing Link felt when he stirred — not sharp or immediate, but deep, like something inside him had cracked and slowly healed wrong.
His right hand twitched instinctively.
Still Hylian. Still his.
But he remembered the gloom, the breaking light, and the fall.
He remembered her calling his name.
And then… nothing.
Until now.
---
Link sat up slowly in the healing chamber deep within Lookout Landing, the Sheikah tubes releasing their low hiss of steam. The air was cool, but not cold.
He was alone.
He always had been, in a way.
Even as a Champion.
Even as Zelda's knight.
---
He touched the place on his chest where her light had once burned to save him.
And found a pulse there now — unfamiliar.
Different.
A gift from someone else.
---
Footsteps echoed down the hall.
He turned his head slowly. Expecting Purah. Or Impa. Or—
"Zelda?"
But it wasn't her.
It was Josha, one of the young researchers. She froze when she saw him upright.
"You're awake!" she gasped, and then rushed off before he could say a word.
He stood, slowly, testing his legs.
No limp. No fracture.
But the weight…
was different.
---
Ten minutes later, he stood overlooking the central map of Hyrule, where glowing markers now lit up every region.
Names hovered.
Not just monsters.
Not just relics.
But his name, crossed out.
And another name, glowing at the center of the storm.
> "[???] – Balance-Bearer: Reported last seen in Zora's Domain."
Link stared.
---
Purah appeared beside him, quiet.
"You've been asleep for nearly a month," she said. "We weren't sure when you'd return."
He nodded. Still staring at the map.
"Who is he?" Link asked finally.
Purah hesitated.
Then: "Someone who came from the sky. Not like you. More like… he was thrown here."
She paused again.
"And everything's changed since."
---
She didn't tell Link about the glances Zelda gave that man.
Or the journal pages she'd torn out when she thought no one was watching.
She didn't mention the way Riju smiled at his messages, or how Yona had begun whispering to herself when no one was near.
Some things were too tangled for even Purah to explain.
But Link felt it in his bones:
The world had kept spinning.
And maybe…
just maybe…
it didn't need him at the center anymore.
---
Later that night, he sat alone beneath the stars outside the tower.
He drew his Master Sword.
It hummed, loyal.
But even the blade felt distant.
Quiet.
Then a soft breeze passed through the grass.
And with it, a whisper only he could hear — faint, heavy, ancient.
> "The Balance has returned."
Link closed his eyes.
He didn't know what that meant.
But he knew this:
> Someone else was wearing the weight he used to carry.
And for the first time in a long time…
He was afraid.