When Kiran opened his eyes, he was no longer in ruins.
The castle stood tall, its banners flying proudly. The streets were alive with laughter, merchants shouting, children playing. His people—alive. His kingdom—whole.
Tears filled his eyes. He had returned. Fifty years into the past. To the time he had longed for most.
But this was no dream. This was his second chance.
And as he stood in the courtyard, he heard it again—the same mocking laughter that had haunted him before.
The crown was missing. The game had begun.
This time, Kiran swore, he would not fail.