Each wall was adorned with eight murals, their lines rough yet powerful, their meaning clear despite the age.
But the hall itself was falling apart.
One wall had completely collapsed.
The second was half-destroyed, letting in gusts of freezing wind.
Only the last wall remained intact.
And on it, the murals told the tale of the giants.
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Mural One: A giant stands in the wilderness, roaring toward the heavens. The earth beneath him cracks open, and mountains rise from the ground.
Mural Two: A giant rides a tornado, soaring into the sky to battle dragons.
Mural Three: A giant exhales, and a blizzard blankets the world, freezing everything in its wake.
Mural Five: A giant wields a spear of lightning, striking down a demon crawling from the abyss.
Mural Eight: A giant, engulfed in flames, throws a punch at the gods themselves.
As William stared at the murals, a chill ran down his spine.