He continued, "And I, as the first to master the power of blood magic, used carefully arranged ancient ruins and misleading clues to lure those with potential and a hunger for power into discovering and studying this corrupted knowledge. They, including the sister and brother who later became the Lord of Light and the Cold God, were nothing more than pawns in my millennia-long chess game, moving exactly as my script dictated. I planned all of this!"
Lo Quen let out a cold snort. "You certainly succeeded. Now Jon Snow has killed Ygritte, and the tragedy of ice and fire is playing out once again, dragging the entire world into the abyss you wanted."
Yet the Drowned God shook his head. "No, you are mistaken. I am not the one who destroys the world. Humanity destroys itself. If they had not clung so devoutly to the words I corrupted within the black stone, if they had not believed that killing those dearest to them could grant supreme power, how could the Lord of Light and the Cold God have carried on their millennia-long cycle of hatred? Their desires, their choices, are the true reasons the world was pushed into the abyss. The world is destroyed by the endless desires of living beings themselves."
Hearing this twisted justification, Lo Quen showed no despair. Instead, a faint, knowing smile appeared on his face.
"Destruction? I wouldn't be so sure. Are you really that confident your so-called Outer Gods can do whatever they please?"
The Drowned God's voice faltered abruptly. He clearly had not expected such a reaction from Lo Quen.
In his thousands of years of calculation and belief, the descent of the Outer Gods was an unavoidable final fate, the ultimate doom of all living things.
Yet what Lo Quen displayed was neither fear nor anger, but confidence.
In that instant, even the Drowned God, who had plotted for ages beyond count, felt a slight tremor in the conviction built from resentment and obsession.
Could this man, who had repeatedly shattered convention, be hiding a card even he could not see, something capable of opposing the terrifying beings beyond the stars?
But the doubt lasted only a moment before being smothered by deeper obsession.
No. The greatness of the Outer Gods was unquestionable.
This mortal was merely bluffing.
...
While Lo Quen was engaged in a conversation with the deep-sea remnant soul that would decide the fate of the world, Luo Wen led the main force of the Legion through countless hardships and scattered undead resistance, finally reaching the edge of the ruins of K'Dath.
What greeted them were the shaken Queens and the utterly bizarre core area, steeped in deathly silence.
"Your Grace, the Queen! Where is she?" Luo Wen hurried forward, worry written plainly across his face.
Janice recounted what had just happened, her voice trembling as she spoke.
When Luo Wen heard that Lo Quen had been taken by two suddenly appearing, conjoined monstrous maggots and vanished together into an unknown world, panic finally showed on his face.
Just as he was about to say something,
The change had already begun.
"Gurgle… gurgle gurgle…"
The blood-red pillar of light shooting from the blood pool now slammed into the firmament.
The sky did not simply darken. It was rapidly soaked in absolute darkness.
The sun's light was snuffed out as if by an invisible hand, and the stars' radiance was completely erased.
This was not clouds blotting out the sky, but a change at the level of rules themselves. The very concept of light was being forcibly driven away from beneath this sky.
The Long Night was no longer a legend of the North or a localized disaster.
At this very moment, centered on K'Dath, it descended upon all of Essos, upon Westeros, upon every corner of the Known world.
Pitch-black darkness swallowed the land.
Only the towering pillar of blood over K'Dath emitted an ominous dark red glow, casting a deathly pallor over every face.
A primal fear, born from the instinct to survive, clenched every heart.
Soldiers could barely hold onto their weapons.
The Queens felt waves of chill crawl up their spines.
Even Melisandre, who had rushed to the scene, wore a look of shock.
Yet this was only the beginning.
Within this absolute darkness and deathly silence, a low, drawn-out hum, as though it came from the deepest reaches of the cosmos, began to sound directly inside the minds of everyone present.
The sound could not be heard with the ears, yet it made souls tremble and sent reason reeling on the verge of collapse.
Immediately afterward, everyone who looked up, whether in K'Dath or in any other corner of the world, witnessed a scene they would never forget.
Above the sky that had just been swallowed by absolute darkness, a single point of crimson light abruptly ignited.
At first, it looked like an unusually bright red star.
But it did not take long for people to realize it was no star at all.
It was moving. Growing larger.
At a speed that defied all reason, it tore through the barriers of space and hurtled toward this world.
Its outline became clearer and clearer.
It was an unimaginably massive planet, its surface riven with horrifying, jagged cracks.
At its very center was a grotesque eyeball, blinking at an unnatural rhythm as it swept its gaze across this world, already marked as prey.
As the planet drew closer, indescribable gravitational disturbances and distortions of physical laws spread outward. The ground began to tremble faintly, while the seas surged with abnormal, towering waves.
In Westeros, Tyrion, who had just stepped out of Storm's End, froze in place alongside Davos, who had come out after hearing the noise.
Tyrion stood there with his mouth agape, staring up at the crimson planet that had replaced the moon in the sky.
"Seven save us…"
Davos murmured. Even this knight, who had weathered countless storms, could not hide the sheer terror on his face.
At Conquest Keep, the Master of Whisperers Meizo strode quickly onto the balcony. His usual calm and composure were nowhere to be seen, replaced by profound shock.
He hastily pulled out paper and pen, trying to record this unimaginable celestial phenomenon, only to find his hand trembling beyond his control.
In Braavos, the clamor along the canals came to an abrupt halt. People froze mid-motion, staring blankly up at the sky as fear spread through the crowd like a plague.
In Asshai, the shadowbinders, who spent their lives dealing with darkness and mystery, emerged from their black towers to gaze at the crimson planet. They could sense the power contained within it, and some of the weaker-minded sorcerers were driven straight into maddened whispers.
In Pentos, in Lys, in Tyrosh, in Qarth, in every corner of the world, anyone who lifted their head could see that terrifying planet, seemingly within arm's reach, occupying nearly half the sky.
Its crimson gaze swept across the land, bringing with it a biting chill and an oppressive weight that pressed directly upon the soul.
The battlefield of K'Dath.
Blooddancer, Ashshadow, Greysmoke, Duskshadow, Silverfall, Seaheart…
All the dragons, great and small, strong and weak alike, let out roars unlike anything heard before, beating their wings in restless agitation.
Daenerys clutched Greysmoke's reins tightly, trying to soothe her uneasy companion, yet her own heart had already sunk to the depths.
She looked around at the endless darkness, feeling the invisible pressure emanating from the crimson planet, and an unprecedented sense of isolation and helplessness surged within her.
She thought of the figure who always created miracles and brought hope, and, unable to stop herself, cried out into the surrounding darkness with a voice choked by tears:
"Lo Quen! Where are you?!"
Her voice echoed across the dead silence of the ruins of K'Dath, only to be swallowed by the ever-growing hum from beyond the stars.