Chapter 41: The End Gate — The Breath of Chaos

A heavy silence engulfed the ruins of Niflheim after the battle. The land was no longer as it once was; even time itself seemed to shrink under the weight of what had transpired.

But before the heroes could catch their breath, the void began to crack once more…

—

*A Tear in the Sky*

A bluish-white light burst forth from between the dark clouds—an ethereal gate, unlike the one the "Devourer" had passed through, but something older… deeper.

The Prince of Ash gasped:

> "It's… the End Gate. It hasn't opened in thousands of time cycles."

But what was strange… it wasn't opened from the outside. It opened from within.

—

*Prophecy of the Ancient Dragons*

From the rubble emerged an old woman draped in a cloak made of bones. She was known as the Shade Elder—her very words sparked prophecy.

Touching the earth, she said:

> "Time is broken, blood has spoken, and the first step of chaos returns… Xiao, you are the key and the end."

Xiao said nothing. He only stared at the gate. His hand still bled from the curse of the previous battle—but the blood was not red.

It gleamed with a shade of… dark gold.

—

*Summoning the Fallen God*

From the gate, a faint wind descended, carrying voices like ancient hymns… chants forgotten even by Odin himself.

Aster fell to her knees involuntarily, her eye trembling:

> "He's coming… not from the Nine Realms… but from the void before creation."

The name spoken in those whispers: _"Varos—the god cast out even from oblivion."_

—

*Clash of Will*

As the new entity drew near, Xiao felt a rupture within himself.

He saw his childhood—his mother hiding him inside an old altar, as he wept, while she whispered:

> "No matter what happens… don't let the blood choose you."

But the blood had already chosen.

Visions surged—of pain, collapse, and the return of a woman's face that had haunted the tale from its beginning. She wasn't just a woman…

She was the priestess of the First Gate—and Xiao's mother.

—

*Convergence of Shadows*

Hym appeared, kneeling on one knee, clutching his shattered spear. But in his gaze: new eyes—eyes filled with _"ancient knowledge."_

He spoke calmly:

> "Chaos doesn't kill… it chooses who lives within it. And Xiao?… He was chosen from the beginning."

And so, the three stood before the gate, as the form of Varos began to take shape from spectral mist…

A face with no features, wings of smoke, and a shattered crown upon his head.