The man was huge.
He walked through the inner corridor with heavy steps. Each step struck the stone floor hard. His shoulders brushed the walls. His cloak was torn and dark with blood. Some of it was fresh. Some of it had dried long ago.
Under the cloak, he still wore his battle armor. Cracked leather. Bent metal. A blade was lodged close to his ear, so close that every movement sent pain through his head. Another wound burned along his side.
On his middle finger, he wore a ring.
It was black and deep blue, dull like old metal. At its center was a small white hollow. The ring felt heavier than it should.
A faint white light stayed close to his body. Quiet. Held back.
The corridor opened into a wide lobby.
Smoke hung near the ceiling. The smell of iron filled the air. Somewhere below, stone collapsed. People screamed. The war was no longer outside the castle. It had reached its heart.
No guards stood there.
Only one door remained.
It was made of black stone. Ancient. Tall. Symbols carved into it had been worn smooth by time and fear.
He placed his palm on the door.
It was warm.
He pushed.
The door opened.
Inside, everything became quiet.
Warm light filled the chamber. Fire burned calmly along the walls. The air was clean, untouched by smoke or blood. Thick pillars rose from the floor, old and strong. This was not a place for comfort. This was a place where choices were sealed.
A woman stood at the center.
She wore a dark gown, simple and sharp. No crown rested on her head. She did not need one. Her hair was tied back. Her face was calm. Her eyes watched him closely.
Behind her, on a raised stone platform, stood the egg.
It was nearly five feet tall. Pale and smooth. Thin golden lines moved slowly across its surface. The air around it felt warm, alive, heavy.
The man stopped.
The stone beneath his boots cracked.
"Queen," he said.
"You came," she replied.
"I know why you called me," he said. "But understand this. I cannot leave my people. Not now."
She studied him for a long moment.
"This is not my order," she said.
She took out a scroll and held it toward him.
"Your brother. Your king wrote this."
He took the scroll.
"Read," she said.
The air in the room grew heavy.
He opened the letter and read aloud, his voice low and steady.
My brother,
If you are reading this, then the inner gates still stand.
That means the war has not ended yet.
I will not tell you how to fight.
You already know its cost.
I ask you to endure.
I ask you to carry what must survive us.
I ask you to leave me behind, even if it breaks you.
I know what I am asking.
I know what it takes from you.
But if you stay, everything ends here.
If you go, something may live.
You are its guardian now.
Hide it. Protect it. Raise it far from crowns and wars.
When the time is right, you will know what must be done.
Forgive me.
He stopped reading.
The room felt smaller.
He folded the letter and held it to his chest.
The white light around him weakened.
Not because he was tired.
Because his heart had chosen.
For a moment, he looked like a man who had lost something he would never get back.
"You should have let me die with you," he said quietly.
The Queen did not answer.
He turned toward the egg.
He stepped onto the stone platform and stood before it.
The golden lines on the egg grew brighter.
He raised his hand.
The white light around him began to deepen. It shifted. It turned gold.
He spoke words that were old. Words shaped by breath and will, not sound alone. The air answered him.
Golden light wrapped around the egg.
Slowly, the egg began to shrink. Not breaking. Not cracking. Its form folded inward, becoming smaller and smaller, until it turned into a small, glowing golden substance.
The light drifted toward his hand.
Toward the ring.
The golden substance flowed into the white hollow at the center of the ring.
The ring burned hot.
Then the light settled.
The hollow now glowed gold.
The white aura around him faded completely.
Only the ring remained alive with light.
He lowered his hand.
The egg was gone.
"It is bound to you now," the Queen said. "Only you can carry it."
He stared at the ring.
"I didn't agree to this," he said.
"No," she replied. "But you chose it."
"I will return," he said. "I always do."
The Queen's eyes rested on the ring.
Her lips curved into a slow smile.
Not wide.
Not loud.
A smile that appeared when a dangerous gamble finally worked.
For a brief moment, her fingers trembled.
Then they became still.
He turned and left.
Outside the chamber, a girl stood in the corridor.
She was young. Her hair was loose. Her face was pale.
She froze when she saw him.
Her eyes went to his wounds.
Then to his hand.
"Father," she said.
He stopped.
The golden light on the ring dimmed slightly.
"We lost Elis," she said. "My brother… he is gone."
His breath caught.
"I know," he said softly.
He stepped closer and placed his hand on her head.
"I love you," he said. "More than this world."
"Then don't go," she whispered.
Every part of him wanted to stay.
"I have to," he said. "If I don't, nothing will be left for you."
He met her eyes.
"Wait for me," he said. "No matter how long it takes."
She nodded through tears.
He turned and walked away.
She watched him until he disappeared.
The ambush came fast.
Steel screamed. Shadows moved.
Blades cut into him. Spears pierced his armor. Blood ran down his neck. One weapon stayed lodged near his ear.
He protected his hand.
He protected the ring.
He kept moving.
Time blurred.
The land slowly changed beneath his feet.
The ground turned dark and dry. The air grew thin and silent. No wind. No sound.
This was the barren land.
The Forbidden Land.
Still, he walked into it.
His strength finally gave way.
He fell to one knee.
Blood poured from his wounds and soaked into the dark earth. The ground drank it without sound. His breathing was heavy. Each breath burned.
He looked at his hand.
At the ring.
The gold light inside it pulsed slowly, spiraling within the hollow like a sleeping heart.
He clenched his fist.
"I carried you," he whispered. "I paid the price."
He straightened his back and drew in what little strength remained.
Pain. Rage. Love. Duty.
All of it pulled inward, deep into his mana, until his body shook.
Then he roared.
The sound tore across the barren land and rose into the sky.
The clouds above split apart. Blue lines streaked through them like cracks in glass. Light burst open between those lines, twisting and widening, until the sky itself tore open.
A rift.
Shining. Violent. Alive.
He forced himself to stand.
Blood dripped from his armor. His legs trembled.
Still, he faced the rift.
"I will return," he shouted.
"No matter what it costs me."
The ring burned hot against his finger.
He stepped forward.
Then he leapt.
The light swallowed him whole.
The rift snapped shut.
Silence fell across the Forbidden Land.
Far behind him, the war continued, unaware of what had just been lost.
Far beyond the rift, something ancient stirred.
And a future, sealed in gold and bound within a ring, began to move.