Anshelm watches as the giant fades away, not killed but drawn ethereally out of this plane of existance. For both Tiberius and Anshelm, and for thousands inside and outside the city walls, the quiet "rises" rather than descends. Though the inky blackness of night comes, with it comes no terror, but instead the comfort of a warm blanket bestowed before bedtime by one's parent.
For the first time in many hours, all at once, there is no fear. The populace sits, rests, feels their appetites restored, their will to live regained.
Peace has come to Dachau.