At dawn, they reached the heart of the city: a vast cavern beneath the palace, its ceiling carved with constellations.
And there it was—the Crown.
Suspended in the air above a black altar, shards of molten crystal spun slowly, glowing with inner fire. The sight stole Aric's breath. His chest burned as if the crown were already inside him.
Edran's face was grim. "So it survives. The Shattered Crown… the ruin of gods. This is what the Serpent seeks. This is what calls to you."
Mira grabbed Aric's arm. "Don't go near it."
But Aric's feet moved on their own. The fire surged, pulling him forward, whispering of power, destiny, freedom.
For a heartbeat, he stood before it, the shards reflecting in his eyes. His hand lifted, trembling.
And in that moment, he knew: touching it could save them… or end everything.