He gasped, though there was no air to breathe, his vision blurring as the battle raged on. He could feel himself slipping, could feel the edges of his existence fraying. The knowledge, the power, the memories, they were too much. This was not his war. This was not his time. He did not belong here.
The world around him shattered again.
And suddenly, he was back.
The monolith stood before him once more, the city unchanged, the robed figure watching in silence. The weight of the memories still pressed against him, lingering like the echo of a forgotten dream. He staggered, his mind spinning, his body aching with a fatigue that was not physical.
The figure spoke.
"You have seen."
Jude swallowed, steadying himself. "What… what was that?"
"A fragment of the past," the figure said. "A war that shaped the world you now walk."
Jude exhaled slowly, his thoughts racing. "What does it have to do with me?"
