The cold night was silent, save for the rhythmic howling of the wind. In a secluded part of the kingdom, hidden from the prying eyes of the world, a child was about to be born. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candle casting shadows on the stone walls, where an anxious father stood, his fists clenched, his heart pounding like a war drum.

  Outside, a storm raged, as if the heavens themselves bore witness to this momentous occasion. The midwife worked tirelessly, her voice calm yet firm, guiding the mother through each agonizing breath. Pain, sweat, and exhaustion filled the air, yet within that suffering, hope burned brightly.

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  Then, at long last, a cry pierced the darkness. A cry so powerful it seemed to silence the storm itself. The father stepped forward, his breath hitching as he gazed upon the small, fragile life in the midwife’s arms.

  A child, his child, had been born into this cruel world.

  Yet, as the first moments of joy settled, a strange sensation filled the room. The candles flickered unnaturally, the wind outside stilled, and for a brief second, everything seemed to stop. The father’s eyes narrowed as he looked upon his newborn—there was something different about this child, something otherworldly.

  Little did they know, this birth would change the fate of the worl

  d itself.