The city of Veyloris slept under silver moonlight. Its glass towers gleamed, its walls bristled with defenses, and its citizens whispered that Ardamon's fall was an accident — an explosion, a disaster, anything but the return of old myths.
But lies do not stop fire.
The earth split without warning. A pillar of flame erupted in the central district, shattering towers in seconds. The night turned crimson as screams tore through the streets.
And through the inferno, he came.
Rasan strode like a god of war, each step igniting the ground. Arrows of light from defense turrets rained down on him, missiles streaked through the sky — and he swatted them aside like sparks. His molten gaze swept across the defenders as if judging their worth.
> "Another nest of insects," he thundered. "Another city that believes itself safe. Learn, then, the price of arrogance."
With a sweep of his hand, the city walls crumbled as though made of sand. His Titan-spawn surged through the gaps — twisted shapes of shadow and fire, once human, now hollow vessels of his will.
Soldiers fought, but their bullets vanished in flame. Families fled into the night, their screams mixing with the roar of collapsing steel.
On the highest tower, Rasan raised his burning crown.
> "Kneel to your Titan."
The tower dissolved in fire, its ashes raining down like black snow. Veyloris, jewel of the East, fell in less than an hour.
---
Far away, across scorched plains and broken highways, a band of battered survivors trudged onward. Their bodies were worn, their faces streaked with soot, but their eyes still burned with stubborn fire.
Kael marched at the front, his jaw set. Beside him, Elira carried the shard, its glow steady, as if guiding them. Behind, children clung to their mothers, soldiers helped the wounded, every step a defiance of despair.
At last, the dark outline of another city rose against the horizon — Dravenhold, one of the last strongholds of the Western Alliance.
The survivors collapsed at its gates, the guards staring in horror at their condition.
Kael lifted his head, his voice hoarse but unshaken.
> "Ardamon is gone. The Titan walks again. If you don't prepare, you'll be next."
The guards hesitated. Whispers spread. And within hours, the words passed through every street, every tower, every home of Dravenhold:
The Titans had returned.
And with that, the world could no longer pretend.
---