Scene 1 – The Crown Descends
The half-forged crown of gold hovered above Jemil's head, its points jagged, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat. Every second it sank lower, the fire of the burning mark racing up his chest and neck as if eager to meet it.
Jemil's breaths came shallow, his vision hazy. The chamber was no longer just stone and shadow—it blurred into a storm of chains, fire, and illusions, each one pulling at him in a different direction.
Lyra slammed her fists against the bars of gold that caged her in, sparks flying with each strike. "Fight it, Jemil! Don't let her touch you!" Her flames roared, but the chains devoured them, drinking her fury as though mocking her.
Kaelina staggered forward, dragging her cracked sword with both hands. Her discipline had always been her anchor, but now even that trembled. The sight of the crown hovering above Jemil's brow shook her more than any enemy blade. He's slipping. If I fail here, I lose him.
