There are things buried beneath our feet—things older than kingdoms, older than gods.

But not all of them are dead.

Some simply wait.

Buried beneath the mountains, beneath the oceans, beneath the very bones of the earth itself, there lies a Titan.

A being so vast, so ancient, that its name has been forgotten.

Its body is stone and shadow.
Its voice is the wind between mountains.
And its mind…

Its mind never sleeps.

For centuries, it has whispered in the dreams of kings, twisting their ambitions, shaping their wars, waiting…

Waiting for the day it will rise again.

I know this because I have heard its voice myself.

And I fear the day when someone is foolish enough to answer.

The First Dream

The whispers came in the dead of night.

A voice, deep as the roots of the world, calling across the ages, weaving its words into the dreams of kings and conquerors alike.

“You are meant for more.”

“You are greater than the world allows you to be.”

“Take what is yours.”

I have seen too many rulers fall to ambition—too many men who believed themselves destined for something greater than fate had allowed.

And now, I know why.

Because they were not dreaming.

They were being spoken to.

And the voice they heard…

Did not belong to anything human.

The City That Sank into the Earth

I first learned of the Titan in a city that no longer exists.

It was called Varaine, a kingdom built upon the mountains of the East, where its people carved their homes into the stone itself.

They were strong, proud, untouched by war for centuries.

And then—

One night, they vanished.

Not by plague.
Not by invasion.
Not by famine.

The city simply… disappeared.

Its towers swallowed by the earth, its streets turned to ruins overnight.

As if something beneath them had awakened… and pulled them into its depths.

The only survivor was a mad priest, found wandering the mountain’s edge, speaking in a voice that was not his own.

“We dug too deep.”

“We heard the whispers.”

“The Titan was not dead.”

“It was only waiting.”

And then, before he could say more…

He collapsed.

His body turned to stone.

The Whisperer in the Dark

That was years ago.

And yet, the whispers never stopped.

I have met kings who woke in cold sweats, clutching their chests, speaking of a voice in the darkness.

A voice that told them they were destined to rule more, to conquer, to claim.

A voice that filled them with visions of empires that would stretch beyond the horizon.

“Expand.”

“Take what is yours.”

“You are a god among men.”

And always, these kings listened.

Because power is a sweet poison.

And the Titan’s whispers taste like honey to the ambitious.

The Descent Into the Cavern

I knew I had to find it.

To find the thing that whispered from beneath the world.

It took years of searching, following trails left in forgotten texts, chasing myths across continents, until finally…

I stood before the place where the earth had broken.

The cavern was massive, its entrance hidden in the ruins of Varaine, where the city had once stood before it was swallowed whole.

The air was thick with ancient dust, untouched by time, as if the world itself had tried to seal away whatever lay within.

And so, with only a flickering lantern and the weight of countless regrets, I stepped inside.

And I heard it.

Not in my ears.

Not in my mind.

But in my bones.

“You have come far, Merlin.”

“Come closer.”

“See what waits beneath the world.”

The Titan Beneath the Stone

The deeper I ventured, the more I felt it.

A presence vast beyond comprehension, a weight in the air that pressed down upon my soul, ancient and overwhelming.

Then, in the depths of the cavern, I saw it.

A colossal figure, half-buried beneath layers of ancient rock, its stone-like skin cracked with age, but its form impossibly intact.

It was not dead.

It was not sleeping.

It was simply…

waiting.

The Titan’s First Words

“I remember you.”

The words rumbled through the earth, not spoken aloud, but etched into reality itself, as if the air itself was bending beneath their weight.

“You were there when we fell.”

“You watched as my kind were buried beneath time.”

“And now, you return.”

“Tell me, Merlin—do you come to set me free?”

I gripped my staff, my heart hammering.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

The Titan’s eyes—great, hollow voids—shifted, fixing upon me.

“I am what came before.”

“I am what will remain when all else crumbles.”

“I am the hunger that kings cannot resist, the whisper that drives empires to ruin.”

“I am the Forgotten One.”

“And I am not alone.”

The Truth of the Whispers

It was never just one Titan.

The whispers had not come from a single voice.

There were more.

Buried deep beneath the earth, beneath the mountains, beneath the ruins of the world’s first cities.

Waiting.

Whispering.

Guiding the rise and fall of civilizations, nudging mankind forward, only to pull them back down into ruin.

And as I stood before this colossal being, I realized something chilling.

They were not imprisoned.

They were not trapped.

They were waiting for the right king to listen.

And the moment that happened…

The world would tremble once more.

Merlin’s Final Words

We think history is written by men.

That kings and rulers shape the world with their choices.

But I have seen the truth.

There is something beneath us, something older, something waiting.

It does not rule.

It does not command.

It only whispers.

And men, foolish as they are…

Always listen.

So tell me, traveler…

If you woke one night and heard a voice promising you power beyond imagining…

Would you resist?

Or would you listen?

Because if you do…

It will never let you go.