Millennia later, the same scene unfolds, but this time in a world long ravaged by time. The once divine landscape has now been reduced to ruins and decay. The Traveler, a solitary figure marked by the passage of centuries, stands before what remains of the palace—now nothing more than crumbling stone overtaken by nature’s slow reclaiming of the land. Despite the desolation, the Traveler, a humanoid figure with cybernetic enhancements—most notably a sleek, mechanical arm—still carries the remnants of divine grace. The Traveler’s glowing eyes reflect a deep sadness, but also steadfast belief. In this ruined world, he represents both the last living echo of the Fearsome Warrior and the eternal faith that endures even in the most forsaken of places. Before him stands the ruined pillar—a once-majestic structure, now cracked and weathered with time. Yet, faint traces of divine light still pulse from its surface, a reminder of the divine presence that once filled this land. The Traveler’s posture is one of quiet reflection. He faces Hiranyakashipu, not as an imposing, flesh-and-blood figure, but as a ghostly apparition—an echo of the past, filled with resentment and disbelief. The father’s face, now a faded memory, reflects a deep and unwavering skepticism, questioning Prahlada’s faith. "You say Vishnu is everywhere, even now? In this ruined world?" His voice seems almost hollow, lost to time. The Traveler’s response is one of gentle certainty, even in this broken world. He speaks softly, as though reminding himself, “Yes. Vishnu is still here—in the remnants of the earth, in the winds that carry memories, in the life that continues to grow even after destruction.” His words hold a quiet strength, not of grandeur, but of undying truth. Around him, the landscape is devastated, the once-vibrant natural elements now only faint glimmers of life. Ashen trees and flowers that have withered still glow softly, their light a final vestige of the divine essence they once contained. In the distance, the faint outlines of ruined buildings can be seen, buried under time's weight, yet the soft radiance from the Traveler’s light suggests that even in the face of utter ruin, the divine presence remains. The Traveler’s mechanical arm glows faintly, as if responding to the lingering energy of the divine world that once was. His isolation in this decayed realm is palpable, yet his belief in the omnipresence of the divine, carried through the centuries, remains unshaken. Both scenes show the same moment—a conversation about divine omnipresence—but told through the eyes of two versions of the same hero: the Fearsome Warrior, whose world is still full of divine grandeur, and the Traveler, who walks through a ruined world where the sacred power has faded, yet still lingers. Through both lenses, the themes of faith, divine presence, and the eternal connection between all things remain, though they are colored by the passing of time and the vast differences in their environments. The contrast between divine light and dark skepticism is ever-present, echoing across both epic realms and desolate ruins.