The sky over Hyrule was wrong.
It wasn't night, and it wasn't day.
A bruise-colored twilight hung over the kingdom, stretching from horizon to horizon. The sun remained frozen halfway below the mountains in the west, bleeding red light that never faded and never darkened. Windmills stood still. Rivers flowed slower than they should. Even birds avoided the air above Hyrule Field.
Time itself had grown tired.
Princess Zelda stood atop the highest balcony of Hyrule Castle and watched the unmoving sunset.
"It's started," she said quietly.
Behind her, boots stopped against the stone floor.
Link didn't speak immediately. He followed her gaze instead. The hero of Hyrule — veteran of wars no one remembered — rested a hand on the Master Sword at his side. The blade hummed faintly. Not loudly. Not in warning.
In recognition.
"He's not just returning," Zelda continued, her voice steady despite the tremor in the wind. "He's forcing the cycle to close."
Link finally spoke.
"…This time is different."
Zelda looked at him. Not the chosen hero. Not the legendary knight.
Just Link.
And she nodded.
"For ten thousand years, our souls have met him again and again," she said. "Demise's hatred, reborn as Ganondorf. The curse binds us — Wisdom, Courage, and Power. We defeat him, seal him, and history forgets. Then it begins again."
The ground trembled.
Far to the south, a column of black light erupted from the desert. Clouds spiraled toward it like water down a drain.
"He isn't trying to rule Hyrule anymore," Zelda whispered. "He's trying to end the world so the cycle has nowhere to continue."
Link's hand tightened around the sword.
Zelda turned to him.
"If he succeeds… there will be no rebirth. No reincarnation. No future Hyrule."
Link gave a small nod.
Then, after a moment —
"…Good."
Zelda blinked.
He looked at the sunset.
"Because then," he said softly, "this will be the last time we have to fight."
For the first time since the sky had frozen, Zelda smiled.