What Fan Theories Explain Berserk The Egg Of The King Ending?

I get giddy thinking about the swarm of theories people cook up around the end of 'The Egg of the King'. One quick cluster I keep coming back to follows three overlapping ideas. First, the foreshadowing theory: the egg is symbolic—Griffith’s latent kingship, fragile and waiting to hatch, with the ending showing the last human moments before transformation. Second, the destiny/casualty theory: fans argue the narrative hints that Griffith’s rise was preordained by larger metaphysical forces (Idea of Evil, God Hand), so the ending reads like the calm before a supernatural tide. Third, the relational-betrayal theory: the emotional fallout—Guts leaving, the Hawks’ devotion—serves as the moral and psychological sacrifice that paves the way for his rebirth.

On top of those, some folks get philosophical: the ending critiques what we value in leaders—power gained through erasure of self and others. Others focus on Skull Knight and the echoes of past sins; his presence makes people wonder if the ending is part of a longer, cyclic vengeance plot. I love how these theories aren’t mutually exclusive: they layer symbolism, fate, and character choices to make sense of that haunting close, and every viewpoint changes how I reread the subtle panels and expressions.

I still find myself turning over the last pages of 'Berserk' volume 'The Egg of the King' like a puzzle I can’t stop rearranging. What fascinates me most is how many fans treat that ending as both a literal plot hinge and a vast web of symbolism—so there are routes people take to explain why things close the way they do. One popular line reads Griffith’s fall and the imagery around the 'egg' as foreshadowing: the egg isn’t just an object or moment, it’s a metaphor for potential power that has to be cracked. In that reading, Griffith’s charisma, ambition, and willingness to sacrifice everything create a kind of cultivated vacancy—an 'egg' that’s being prepared to hatch into kingship. Fans tie that to the later Eclipse: the ‘hatching’ is his rebirth as something beyond human, and the ending shows the last pure, fragile moments before the shell breaks.

Another theory leans into causality and the supernatural machinery of the world Miura builds. People suggest the ending hints that Griffith isn’t merely ambitious but destined—either chosen by, or in tacit agreement with, the metaphysical forces (Idea of Evil, God Hand) that govern fate. Supporters of this view point to the way coincidences stack: his rise, the timing of certain tragedies, and the presence of prophetic characters like Skull Knight who seem to know the price ahead. There’s also a psychological reading: Griffith’s dream is both his salvation and his doom. The ending shows him at a crossroads where human fragility (his broken body later on) and almost inhuman resolve collide; fans argue that the choice to accept the supernatural bargain was foreshadowed by the ending’s tone of inevitable transformation.

I also love the darker, character-focused theories that read the end as commentary on friendship and betrayal. Some fans claim the emotional beats—Guts’ departure, the Hawk’s devotion—are what truly ‘sets the egg’: Griffith’s loneliness and obsessive dream require someone to be sacrificed, not just a literal blood sacrifice but the slow erosion of trust and human bonds. This makes the ending tragic in a human way rather than purely cosmic. Others interpret the egg as societal—the idea that to be a king, Griffith had to become a vessel for something monstrous that the world demands from its rulers. All of these lines of thought mix symbolism, fate, and character psychology, and that’s why I keep returning to that volume: each reread highlights a different thread, and I’m still torn between feeling devastated for the people in it and admiring the dark, relentless storytelling. It’s messy, painful, and perfect in its ambiguity—exactly why it sticks with me.