The underground ruin slowly returned to silence.
Fragments of the **Ancient Guardian** lay scattered across the shattered chamber like broken monuments from a forgotten age. Pieces of enchanted stone still glowed faintly where John's claws had torn through them. Ancient runes flickered weakly across cracked walls before fading into darkness.
The air smelled of dust, old mana, and scorched stone.
John stood at the center of the ruined chamber, his massive wings slowly folding against his back.
For several long seconds, he didn't move.
The battle had ended minutes ago.
But something else lingered.
Fragments of memory drifted through his mind like distant echoes.
A sky darker than midnight.
Dragons the size of mountains.
Wings large enough to cover entire valleys.
And a world that trembled beneath their presence.
John blinked slowly.
The images faded like mist beneath sunlight.
"…That was… a lot."
His deep voice rolled quietly through the cavern.
