The vibration rising from the roots of the glacier was unlike the mechanical grinding of the Feeding Station. It was a deep, resonant thrum that felt like the earth itself was shivering in its sleep. Clevatess stood at the edge of the floating violet platform, his fingers tightening on the silver dragon brooch at his shoulder. The gold embroidery on his midnight-black tunic flickered with a dimming violet light, reflecting the strain of holding his position in this realm.
The Dreadnought had disappeared into the mist below, but the heartbeat grew louder, shaking the very air. This is not the Queen's craft, Clevatess whispered, his eyes scanning the shifting ice below. This is an echo of the Old World.
Alicia gripped her hilt, her blue aura tightening around her as the platform swayed. What did she do? If she took the throne to fuel a weapon, why is the mountain waking up?
Clevatess looked toward the north, where the horizon was no longer gray but a sickly, bruised purple. The Queen didn't just take the data, he realized, his voice carrying a cold, ancient weight. She used the throne as a conduit to tap into the ley lines of the Grave-Sea. She isn't just trying to burn the world; she's trying to wake the things that were meant to stay buried.
As he spoke, a massive fissure tore through the center of the glacier below them. Instead of magma or water, a geyser of translucent, white spirits erupted into the sky. They were the "Lost Hopes"—the souls of those the Sun-Gates had consumed over the last decade. They swirled around the floating ice platform, their silent screams vibrating in the marrow of their bones.
Nelluru fell to her knees, her lime-green aura dimming as the spirits pressed against her mind. They're so cold, she gasped. Even colder than your ice, my King.
Clevatess stepped toward the edge, his raven-feather mantle spreading wide to act as a barrier against the spectral tide. This is the price of her light, he announced to the swirling spirits. But you will not be her fuel any longer.
He raised his hand, and the Absolute Zero didn't just freeze the air; it created a path of solid shadow through the center of the spirit storm. But as they prepared to move, the heartbeat reached a deafening crescendo. A massive, skeletal hand made of compacted ice and ancient iron reached out from the fissure, grasping the edge of the ridge with enough force to shatter the mountain.
The Queen hadn't just summoned a weapon. She had raised a Titan