"Greetings, Dragonborn. The Heroes awaits you, inside," the gatekeeper of Sovngarde said to Raiden.
"Understood," Raiden replied, bowing slightly to the gatekeeper before stepping inside.
As Raiden passed by the gatekeeper, a strange ripple and the sensation of being watched washed over him.
Raiden turned sharply, but the gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen... What a god! Shaking his head, Raiden strode confidently into Sovngarde.
"The Last Dragonborn, you have finally arrived," the ancient Heroes greeted Raiden, who had been awaited for over a millennium.
They were: One-Eyed Hakon, Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, and Felldir the Old.
For a thousand years, these three Heroes had awaited the arrival of the Last Dragonborn, the one who would fulfill the prophecy.
When tyranny reigns across the eight corners of the world.
When the Brass Tower moves and the river of time reshapes.
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles...
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls....
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding...
...the World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.
And today, the prophecy shall be fulfilled. The Heroes, representing the will of the great Time Lord, Akatosh, will aid the Child of Destiny, the Last Dragonborn, in completing his mission—to end Alduin eternal life.
The three Heroes knelt before Raiden, offering their hands.
"What?" Raiden was bewildered. What was this about?
Suddenly, ancient runes appeared in the palms of the Heroes, connecting with the entirety of Sovngarde. Behind them, a grand door slowly began to open.
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The Heroes stood, making way for Raiden, and respectfully said, "Proceed, Last Dragonborn."
Raiden looked at the path ahead, took a deep breath, and walked forward with determination, the Heroes following closely behind.
Beyond the door lay a path into the unknown. Raiden path of destiny.
On either side of the path were exquisitely carved murals depicting the history of this world.
Raiden ran his hand along the walls, and some ancient knowledge flashed through his mind.
Generals who fell in battle yet refused to collapse, shattered swords still swinging, trembling yet resolute hands—they faced their fears head-on, their backs turned to what they had to protect at all costs.
As Raiden walked, his heart grew firmer. His inner fears dissipated, replaced by unwavering resolve.
Raiden had no love for this world. He had only been here for a dozen days, three of which were spent unconscious, and the rest learning to control his powers. Raiden did not understand this world; he could not feel it through the cold memories in his mind.
But at this moment, curiosity about this world stirred within him. He wanted to know what kind of world these depicted in the murals had given everything to protect.
Therefore, not for others, but for himself, and for the curiosity he held about this world, Raiden would also give everything to protect it. After all, he has no other choice.
After walking a long road, at its end lay a valley shrouded in mist. Raiden used the Dragon Shout to clear the skies and dispel the fog.
As the mist lifted, countless ancient spirits awakened in the valley. They gazed at Raiden, their cold hearts began to beat once more, and their desires surged wildly within them. Their long and lifeless existence had been waiting for this very day.
Two thousand years ago, they had fought against Alduin. Despite giving their all, they had failed to truly kill him... because Alduin... back then, could not be slain in the mortal realm.
But now, in this chaotic era two millennia later, the Last Dragonborn, who carries the blood of the gods and bears the prophecy of a thousand years, has emerged. He will shatter the rule of Alduin immortality in the mortal world. He, a mortal, will act as the agent of the gods.
And these ancient spirits, they too will take up their blades and fight for the Last Dragonborn! For Skyrim! For the bonds they hold dear!
....
As Raiden traversed the long valley, the number of followers behind him grew to a hundred—all spirits who had slumbered here, waiting for this moment.
And on the open ground outside the valley, a dragon awaited their arrival.
He was Alduin brother, a symbol of slaughter and destruction. The rule of strength was etched into his very soul, and he had once forced all living beings to bow to his power.
Yet, he was also the wise one of High Hrothgar, the enlightener of mankind. He had taught humans the Way of the Voice to resist the dragons, and through discipline, he had restrained his own tyrannical instincts.
He was old, so old that even the dragons called him an ancient one, so old that the gods themselves pitied him.
He had watched his brother Alduin be exiled, seen the mountains grow old alongside him, and witnessed the Greybeards below change generation after generation, until his wings were tattered and the Dragon Words on the walls beneath his feet became illegible.
He had been waiting for fate to arrive—his own fate, his brother fate, and the fate of this broken world.
And now, it had come... A thousand years ago, he had witnessed his brother sealing, and today, he would personally send his brother to his death.
He was Paarthurnax, the offspring of Akatosh, the brother of Alduin, the dragon who had bestowed the spark of knowledge upon mankind.
"Dragonborn, are you ready?" Paarthurnax asked Raiden.
Raiden bowed respectfully to Paarthurnax and replied, "I am ready."
Raiden respect for Paarthurnax was not without reason, for Paarthurnax had taught him much. Moreover, Raiden mastery of the Way of the Voice had been learned from the Greybeards, who were all trained by Paarthurnax.
Paarthurnax lowered his massive head and gazed at Raiden. His golden dragon eyes were filled with countless thoughts, yet they remained as calm as a tranquil sea.
Finally, Paarthurnax soared into the clouds, his roar echoing from within. The ancient and primal language it spoke was a symbol of power, the embodiment of order. Vast energy gathered in the sky as Paarthurnax, like a sovereign, commanded everything in this world.
Amidst his roar, a colossal beam of light pierced through the layers of clouds, descending from the heavens to the earth. Paarthurnax circled the beam three times, let out one final roar, and then departed.
In his last roar, there was no longer the domineering force, only sorrow... and guilt.
After Paarthurnax left, the beam of light began to expand. Its radiance grew increasingly dazzling.
When the light reached its peak, a massive black figure emerged from the beam... a body longer than the White River. When it spread its wings, the entire sky would be shrouded beneath them.
On its proudly raised head, crimson dragon eyes symbolized nobility and malevolence; its skin was the color of steel and stone, as if declaring to all living beings that no one could breach its defense; and the faint blue glow emanating from its sharp claws seemed to warn the world that it could tear apart anything... including this fragile world.
It was Alduin, the World-Eater, the dragon who would end time!
And when Raiden found himself under Alduin shadow, he realized how laughable his earlier composure had been. This was a god... an unstoppable god.
Raiden mental defenses crumbled completely under Alduin majesty. His trembling body seemed no longer under his control, and his mind went blank.
In the end... Raiden was just an ordinary man. Only a dozen or so days ago, he had accidentally arrived in this world, burdened with the mission to save it, Just a dozen days ago, he was merely a reclusive writer... he was no hero.
Bjorn had merely picked up the name "Raiden." He was not the Archmage of Winterhold; he had never studied magic. He was not a general of the Empire; he had never set foot on a battlefield. He was not the leader of the Dark Brotherhood; he didn't even know how to hold a blade...
Only at this moment did Bjorn realize that he could not bear the mission to save the world. He was unworthy of the name "Raiden."
It's over... everything is over. This world would be destroyed by his hands!