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Ganondorf, Demon King, Chief of the Gerudo, Scourge of Hyrule, Future Corpse in a Cave, stood at the edge of the desert on a high cliff and glowered.
The desert sand blew, unbothered, perhaps unknowing or unwilling to know.
He had unimaginable power. His ranks, vast swaths of every horrid monster imaginable, claws, snarling sharp-toothed mouths, and weapons sharp enough to rend meat from bone through the toughest armour. The few remaining loyal gerudo standing in strict rank, weapons of their foremothers in hand, ready for conquest. A force beyond nature, the power to tell the sun when to rise, when rainclouds allow water to fall, where lightning might strike next. But…He was powerless to stop this, somehow, his vast strength and army had failed to stop Raurus’ forces from retaking the desert from him, with the help of those peace-loving traitors. Power over his homeland slipped through his fingers like the sand he had grown powerful in.
Ganondorf clenched his fist, feeling the absence more sharply than any mere wound.
Worse still;
He had nowhere to sit.
Raurus’ throne was laughable, not nearly wide enough to bother. Nor was there anywhere suitable to lean his sword. Or his elbow. Or his elbow and sword, which was the important part. He had only bothered coming back out here to enjoy his rock. His throne away from the throne. And now it is gone. Inaccessible. Disgustingly occupied by those pompous cowards who refused the power offered to them out of pure ego, cowardice, and an unforgivable lack of appreciation for good elbow support.
It was the perfect rock. The only one he’d ever found that could match his intimidating stature, and also support the massive weight. He had spent hours there giving orders, contemplating domination, threatening subordinates, and occasionally just leaning in silence, thinking about how right everything felt when one’s elbow was properly accommodated.
From this cliff, he could almost see it.
The audacity.
He would redouble efforts in the region. He would reclaim the desert. He would not be separated from his rock by sanctimonious cowards and their poorly considered ergonomic choices!
~Several thousand years in the future~
The Phantom Ganon observed the edges of the oasis, being careful to conceal itself from the many people still milling about the bazaar even in the depths of nighttime. It looked, following the waters edge to where he knew the rock to be.
Or, rather, where it should have been.
The perfect rock was gone. Reduced to nothing more than dust, utterly pulverized, crushed flat beneath an enormous slab of dull grey stone that had absolutely no business being there, and had even less aesthetic merit. It did not look comfortable. It did not look regal. It did not look like it had ever considered an elbow in its entire geological lifespan.
The phantom, upon putting the figurative and literal pieces together, did roughly the spiritual equivalent of dropping to one's knees and screaming “NOOOOO!”.
Deep in the depths underneath Hyrule castle, Ganondorfs’ eyes snapped open in rage. He roared, the sound tearing through the depths, the cracked stone of Hyrule castle, and much further into the sky. His rage shook the earth for three days straight. Monsters everywhere went feral, shrieking and clawing, snapping their teeth at anything that moved. The citizens of Hyrule panicked, fleeing their homes desperately clutching heirlooms. Link, hero of the wild and recent re-gainer of the master sword, for one, was rather upset this second upheaval had very rudely gotten in the way of him trying some very dubious food made from gleeok guts.
Dinner would have to wait.