The Last Witch Hunter 2 (2026) – First Trailer | Vin Diesel, Angelina Jolie

Do you know what it’s like to live forever?

Not the fairytale version.
Not the kind where centuries pass like pages in a book and you smile gently as empires rise and fall.

I’m talking about the kind of immortality where time becomes a prison.

Where every face you love turns to dust.
Where every promise outlives its meaning.
Where death becomes a luxury you are never allowed to earn.

My name is Aren Vale.

And I have been alive for 1,137 years.

THE AXE AND THE CROSS

The first time I died, I was nineteen.

A crusader’s blade split my ribs open beneath a burning sky, somewhere between sand and scripture. I remember the smell of iron and incense. I remember the man who killed me whispering a prayer as he did it.

Then I woke up.

No wounds. No scars. Just pain echoing through a body that refused to stay dead.

That was when they found me.

They called themselves The Axis Sanctum—keepers of the boundary between worlds. Soldiers of the Axe and the Cross, sworn to protect our reality from what lies beyond it.

They told me my immortality wasn’t a miracle.

It was a byproduct.

“You died at a thin place,” the High Inquisitor said.
“A fracture between waking and dream.”

That fracture never healed.

Neither did I.

For centuries, they used me as a weapon.
Sent me where others could not go.
Sent me into dreams.

THE DREAM WORLD

The Dream World is not sleep.

Sleep is mercy.

The Dream World is where ideas learn to breathe.
Where fears take shape.
Where gods are born unfinished.

Only a few can enter it willingly. Fewer return sane.

They called me a Dream Walker.

Because when I crossed over, the Dream World recognized me as one of its own.

Inside it, gravity obeys emotion. Time folds like wet paper. Cities rise from memory. Monsters crawl out of regret.

And something else lives there too.

Something ancient.

Something patient.

Something that has been waiting for the door to open again.

THE WARNING

I was sharpening my blade when Lyra found me.

She didn’t knock. She never did. She stepped out of the shadows like they belonged to her.

“You’re needed,” she said.

“I’m always needed,” I replied without looking up.

Her voice tightened. “Not like this.”

That made me stop.

Lyra was a Seer—one of the few who could glimpse the Dream World without entering it. Her eyes were always tired. Tonight, they were terrified.

“It’s coming,” she said. “The Binding is failing.”

I felt it then—a pressure behind my eyes. A familiar pull, like gravity reversing.

“The world is dreaming again,” she continued. “And it’s dreaming of war.”

THE ENTITY

They didn’t have a name for it.

Names give things shape, and this thing existed before language.

In the Dream World, it appeared as a vast, shifting silhouette stitched together from symbols that no longer existed. Chains of light wrapped around it, embedded deep into the fabric of the dreamscape.

The Binding.

It was the only thing keeping the worlds apart.

“And it’s breaking,” Lyra said.

I finally looked at her.

“If it crosses over,” she went on, “dream becomes law. Reality submits.”

I stood up slowly.

“Are you here to ask me to stop it,” I asked, “or to die trying?”

She didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

THE REFUSAL

“I’m done,” I said.

The room fell silent.

“I’ve fought your wars. I’ve bled in centuries that don’t even remember their own gods. I’ve watched civilizations burn because someone, somewhere, had a bad dream.”

Lyra stepped closer. “This isn’t a war. It’s extinction.”

I laughed—a dry, broken sound. “Then maybe it’s time.”

Her eyes flashed. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” I snapped. “Do you know what it’s like to live forever?”

The words hung heavy in the air.

My immortality had made me the greatest soldier of the Axe and the Cross.

It had also made me empty.