.
.
.
The world changes and the threads of fate keep entangling with each other.
New threads emerge as some disappear.
The world is stable, but for how long?
I see the creation, the leftovers of the great war that we painstakingly reformed as a world, and I can't help but love it all.
A world created by corpses of Gods and Titans, and the fragmented Realms.
But I fear that whatever is bringing these new threads to the world might not have good intentions.
Ymir… I wonder what you would do if you were here.
I had long forgotten about my wrath.
Odin is dead alongside you, and there is no point in raging over it anymore.
But you don't know how much I miss you.
A sudden spark enters the world once more.
Another of them, it seems…
Hm… It has become a dragon.
An Ice Dragon within the Jotunheimr Region.
How many have they been now?
I must use the power of fate to exert balance in the world.
