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🎬 Enjoying the content? Don’t forget to LIKE, SHARE, and SUBSCRIBE – it really helps the channel grow! 💥🙌 🔔 Hit the bell icon so you never miss a new video! 💬 Drop a comment – I’d love to hear from you! 🙏 Thanks for the support – you’re a big part of this journey! ❤️ FOLLOW MY INSTAGRAM: / art_of_aagiir Story The wind howled low across the dead plains, dragging dust like a veil over a world long past saving. Ruins of steel and bone jutted from the earth like the remains of some ancient god. Everything smelled like rust and rot. Eli moved through the ash like a shadow. His orange anorak was faded, stained with time, but still bright against the lifeless gray around him. His gas mask hissed softly with each breath. The rifle slung across his back was old but clean — maintained like it was sacred. He didn’t speak. There was no one left to speak to. The silence was broken by the caw of a crow — or what sounded like one. It was rare to hear anything alive. Then he saw it. At the base of a shattered tree — once towering, now split and blackened — were two massive figures. Giants. Chained. One was slumped forward on its knees, pale as bone, its massive shoulders heaving with shallow breaths. The other hung grotesquely by a rusted chain driven through its arm and into the bark of the tree. One of its eyes dangled from the socket, swinging gently like a broken pendant. Dried blood crusted its face and chest. The smell hit him like a wave. Death. Old and slow. Eli didn’t move at first. He just stared. Even after all this time — after everything he’d seen — this was different. The kneeling giant lifted its head slowly. Its face was twisted in horror, frozen in a mask of pain and something deeper — fear. Fear that hadn't faded. Fear that had calcified into its bones. Its pale eyes found him through the ash. They locked eyes. The world narrowed. The giant made a sound — low, gurgling, almost childlike. Not a growl. Not a roar. A plea. Eli tightened his grip on the rifle. His gas mask hid his face, but his hands were trembling slightly. He stepped closer. The giant didn’t move — just stared. Its lips quivered as it let out another sound. A mournful wail, barely audible over the wind. It was begging. Not for freedom. For death. Eli looked at the chains. Thick. Iron. Covered in rust and old blood. Whoever had done this had meant for them to stay that way. He didn’t know who these things had been. Soldiers? Victims? Monsters? The world no longer cared. But he did. For just a moment. Eli raised his rifle slowly. The ash swirled between them. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. The giant blinked slowly, and a tear slipped down its ruined cheek Then, came the shot...