Aria's scream didn't echo.
It tore.
Ripped through the palace like a blade dragged across glass, raw and animal and wrong. The silver light pouring from her body flooded the hall in violent pulses, turning shadows into jagged shapes that crawled across the walls.
The Crown was no longer a heartbeat.
It was a storm.
And she was at the center of it.
Damien caught her before she collapsed, arms locking around her trembling body as the light surged again. It burned through the fabric of her sleeves, scorching silver veins across her skin.
Too bright.
Too much.
Too fast.
"Aria!" His voice cracked like thunder. "Stay with me!"
But she wasn't here anymore.
Not fully.
The hall blurred around her, replaced by something deeper. Older. The world folding inward like paper in a fist.
She saw the sky again.
Not the broken one above Valeris.
Another one.
Endless. Starless. Silent.
And beneath it—
Shapes.
