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"We've defeated the World-Eater himself twice over, killed all of Alduin's highest-ranking priests, gained the allegiance of at least two dragons, one of which is already dead, defeated the oldest and most powerful vampire lord in Skyrim -- your father -- and disrupted Thalmor operations all over the place. But at what cost? The coming storm will be far more devastating than any of the threats we've put down thus far."

"You mean the war with the Dominion?"

"Yes, Serana. The civil war in Skyrim may be long over, but the war for Mundus will be starting in full, soon. We have openly defied them at this point, they will not wait long to retaliate. And when they do, you and I will lead the armies of the Volkihar Clan, the dovah, and my new Empire beneath a darkened sun."

"Your Empire? Will they agree with that?"

"They must. I am the last Dragonborn, and I have proven my strength a hundred times over. Tamriel will be united once more, under my name, as you and I grind the Thalmor into the dirt beneath our boots. But until that time comes, let us remind those elves of the power they will be facing."

The first golden rays crept over the eastern peaks, above the ruins of Skuldafn, and from a golden bow an arrow dipped in cursed blood flew with purpose, shrouding the day once again.