GRENDEL (as if it were the most natural thing in the world):
—Humans are hilarious when they dance.
I like watching you do absurd things.

Caliop shot him a deadly glare, then glanced at Max—who simply smiled, clearly enjoying the show.

CALIÓP (looking skyward as if pleading with the gods):
—Fine, fine!

She stood up and, with absolute reluctance, began an awkward, improvised dance—a chaotic mix of stiff robot moves, clumsy hip sways, and what could only be described as a failed attempt at flamenco footwork.

The colossus burst into deep, echoing laughter, like a roar bouncing off cave walls.

GRENDEL (laughing, snow shaking from his shoulder):
—Wonderful!
Absurd… but wonderful.

He extended his massive hand toward her.

GRENDEL (still amused):
—Give me the scroll.

With a huff, Caliop handed it over.
As he unrolled it between his stony fingers, his eyes lit with an ancient glow—
as though some buried memory of a forgotten world had stirred.

The taiga fell silent.
And with it… fate became uncertain.

GRENDEL (frowning, voice heavy and shaded with unease):
—I no longer see as I once did…
You’ll have to read it.

Caliop unrolled the scroll on the ground, her eyes full of caution and curiosity.

CALIÓP:
—Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding…

She rose slowly, her breath deepening as she scanned the scroll.
Her gaze caught a long stick lying nearby in the snow.
With steady movements, she began tracing runes into the hardened frost—each symbol rising from the surface as if it had been waiting for this moment.

As the markings took shape, the air grew heavier.
A chill swept through the taiga, and a faint, almost imperceptible murmur slithered between the trees.
Dagmar let out a low growl, uneasy.
Max, still recovering, narrowed his eyes—his instincts sharpening as something stirred inside him.

GRENDEL (eyes fixed on the runes, his expression hardening, voice deepening):
—These words… belong to a troll brother.

He paused.
The calm once etched into his stone face now gave way to a sharp, uneasy intensity.
Caliop felt the temperature drop another degree.

GRENDEL (his voice, a mineral echo laced with ancient warning):
—It’s a warning.

The titan lowered his head.
His burning gaze locked onto Caliop.
What followed was almost a whisper—
but it made the ground beneath her feet tremble.

GRENDEL:
—Don’t listen to Aman.