The World's End

You have come.

The howls of Sköll and Hati are gone. The fires are embers. The sky, stripped of its sun and moon, is a canvas of deep, starless violet.

This is the end you were warned of. The Twilight.

Ash, like a gentle black snow, settles on a world scoured clean. There is no sound save the hiss of the sea on new-forged rock and the mournful sigh of the wind through the bones of Yggdrasil.

You expected a void. An emptiness. A final, screaming horror.

But this is not the end. This is a return.

The Primal Truth

This silence, heavy and absolute, is the one the northern mountains have always known. They are the bones of the earth, and they have seen a thousand ages burn. They are not impressed by the death of gods.

This is the primal wisdom hidden in the stone, the ice, and the dark water:

Destruction is not an absence. It is a clearing.

The old world, with its noise, its blood, and its fury, is gone. In its place is only what is real. The stone. The water. The wind.

And in this stillness, something new takes root.

The New Dark

This is the great tragedy and the greatest hope: all things must be unmade to be truly seen. Only in the twilight of the gods can you find the source—the Källan—that waits in the dark.

The old path is ash. A new one must be found.

The source of the new world does not lie in the past, but in the deepest, most hidden places.

Where will you go from here?