The chamber was vast, carved from the heart of the mountain itself. Torches flickered along the walls, their dim glow casting long shadows across the ancient stone. The air was heavy, not with dust, nor the weight of time, but with something deeper. Something felt.
The Emperor stood at the center of it all.
For centuries, he had waited. He had watched the world fracture and break under the weight of its own flaws. And now, as war raged across continents, the first true warriors had come to him.
A deep rumble echoed through the cavern. The massive stone doors groaned as they parted, revealing a procession of men. They entered in silence, their expressions unreadable, yet their eyes burned with something beyond mortal comprehension.
They knew.
They did not know how they knew, nor could they put words to the certainty that had settled in their souls. But from the moment they had heard whispers of him, the moment they had been called to this place, they had understood.
This was not a man.
This was not a king.
This was something greater.
As they stepped forward, they took in his presence, not as the two-meter figure the world had seen before, but as the truth of what he was.
The illusion was gone.
Before them stood a being towering at 3.9 meters, clad in golden armor that seemed more like the carapace of a god than metal. His very existence bent the air around him, his form too vast, too real, as if the world itself struggled to contain him.
The warriors did not hesitate.
They fell to one knee, their heads bowed. Not out of submission, not out of fear, but because in his presence, standing felt almost wrong.
The Emperor watched them, his gaze unreadable.
Finally, he spoke.
"You have come."
The words were simple, yet they echoed through the chamber as if spoken by the mountain itself.
"You stand before me not as mere men, but as those who have *heard*."
A pause.
"The world beyond this mountain rots. It crumbles under the weight of weak rulers, of warlords who fight for nothing but their own greed. It is broken, divided… but it shall not remain so."
He stepped forward, his golden boots striking against the stone with a sound like thunder.
"You have come here because you understand."
His gaze passed over them. He saw no doubt, no fear. Only *certainty.
"You are the first. The first of many. And though you were born in weakness, you will rise above it. You will become more."
His voice lowered, but its weight only grew.
"I will forge you into weapons, not of destruction, but of unity. You will be the blade that cuts away the sickness of this world. You will be the foundation upon which a new order is built."
Another pause. The silence stretched.
And then, as if bound by something greater than themselves, the warriors raised their heads.
They did not need to speak.
Their presence here, their unwavering eyes, their very souls had already given their answer.
They were his.
And soon, they would become more than even they could comprehend.
—End of Chapter 28—