The journey through the forest was silent.
Lyra moved swiftly, as if she knew every hidden path. Ardyn followed, the mark on his palm faintly glowing beneath the cloth wrapped around his hand.
By nightfall, they reached a cliff overlooking a vast valley.
At the center stood ruins.
Massive broken pillars. Cracked obsidian walls. And at the highest point… a shattered throne.
Ardyn's breath caught.
"I've seen this place," he whispered.
Lyra looked at him carefully. "In dreams?"
He nodded.
"This is Eldoria," she said softly. "The capital of the Last Empire."
The moment Ardyn stepped forward—
The mark on his hand ignited with dark light.
The ground trembled.
Ancient symbols lit up across the ruins. Dust lifted into the air. The shattered throne began to rebuild itself piece by piece, as if time was reversing.
Lyra stepped back in shock.
"It's responding to you…"
A powerful force pulled Ardyn toward the throne.
Voices echoed around him.
"Blood of the First Emperor…"
"Heir of Shadow…"
"Claim your destiny…"
Ardyn reached the throne.
For a moment, fear returned.
If he sat on it… there would be no going back.
He thought of his village.
Of the flames.
Of the soldiers who hunted him.
He closed his eyes.
"I won't run anymore."
He sat.
Dark energy exploded into the sky like a pillar of night. The clouds above twisted violently. Across the continent, every remaining relic of the old empire began to glow.
In the black tower, the hooded figure shattered his crystal mirror in rage.
"He has claimed it…"
Back in Eldoria, the energy slowly faded.
The throne now stood whole.
Ardyn opened his eyes.
They were no longer just human.
They carried the depth of endless shadows.
Lyra knelt instinctively.
"My Emperor…"
Ardyn looked over the broken kingdom below him.
"No," he said calmly.
"Not yet."
The wind carried his voice across the valley.
"But the Empire will rise again."
Far beyond the horizon, enemies began to move.
And for the first time in a thousand years—
Hope returned to the world.
The End.