Break the cycle.
This is an answer that Gawain had never anticipated, yet at the moment he heard it, countless associations flashed through his mind. It was as if numerous scattered clues and evidence suddenly connected within the same web, finally allowing him to vaguely grasp the outline of something.
"Cycle... what kind of cycle?" Gawain fixed his gaze on the eyes of Amoen, the Giant Stag, which were like forged from light, and asked curiously, "What kind of cycle would trap even the gods?"
"We are born, we grow strong, we watch the world, we fall into madness... then everything returns to silence, waiting for the next cycle, endlessly, without meaning..." Amoen's slow voice came like a whisper, "So, intriguing 'human being,' to what extent do you understand the gods?"
