Snow no longer fell in flakes—it came in streaks, torn sideways by the bitter winds that coiled around the Black Summit. Yet the cold didn't touch Maeryn.
She stood at the cliff's edge, cloak flaring like wings behind her. Her skin shimmered faintly, dark threads of Titan essence pulsing beneath the surface like veins of obsidian magma. Her eyes, once sharp and human, now glowed with a faint purple hue—an unnatural stillness within them. Her aura warped the air, too dense for most mortals to endure.
Behind her, three Voidbinders knelt in a semicircle.
"My blade sings for war," growled the first—Kharis, the Voidflame Duelist. His arms were covered in writhing aether brands, and his twin sabers crackled with volatile energy. "Send me. Let me rip their myths from their bones."
"No," Maeryn said simply, her voice calm but heavy with command. "Vaelion has instructed patience."
The second Binder, a hooded woman named Scyre, tilted her head. "So even you bow to his plans."
"I do not bow," Maeryn said without turning. "I align. For now."
The third remained silent—until a low hiss broke from beneath their mask. "The Thundercore boy grows stronger. They think he's a threat."
"He is," Maeryn replied. "All of them are. That's the point."
She turned, finally facing them.
"Vaelion has seen further than all of us. His design is not just conquest—it's corruption. The Crucible Trials, the Titans' Convergence, even the Celestial Stage... they're scaffolds. He intends to collapse them. He intends to rewrite the system itself."
Kharis scowled. "And what of you, Maeryn? What is your place in this grand rewrite?"
Maeryn stepped forward, her power coiling around her like tendrils of living shadow. "I will ascend beyond stage and title. When the Titans return, they will not find a vessel... they will find a queen."
As if on cue, the sky cracked with red lightning.
In the distance, the storm Kael had summoned in the last battle still lingered—a bruised gash on the horizon. Maeryn's eyes narrowed.
"Alaric's sword burns brighter now," she said softly. "I felt its echo from here. He's beginning to realize what he's become."
"You fear him," Scyre observed, voice almost playful.
"I respect him," Maeryn answered. "That's more dangerous."
She motioned to the swirling portal behind them, a vast mirror of black glass suspended in a ring of runes.
"Summon the elites. It's time to seal the Black Summit Accord."
Kharis grinned. "Finally."
Meanwhile…
Deep in the sanctuary beneath the ruined city of Caelum's Crest, Alaric sat alone, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.
Solarbrand rested beside him—silent, still, cooling. He hadn't summoned it since the last battle. He feared what would happen if he did.
He looked down at his hands. The molten veins along his arms had grown, crackling when his emotions stirred. Since awakening the fire-and-stone core, his raw power had surged—but so had the cost.
Kael entered, his hair damp, lightning still flickering occasionally from his shoulders. "You look like a man staring at the end of the world."
"I might be," Alaric replied.
"Worried about Maeryn?"
"Yes. But more than that." Alaric looked at Kael. "The Titan essence she absorbed. It changed her. But it also broke something deeper. She's not trying to win the war. She's trying to end the game."
Kael nodded. "And what are we doing?"
Alaric stood, gripping Solarbrand. "Changing the rules first."
From the shadows, Lysera stepped forward, holding a fragment of a crystal map—etched with a single word: Vaelion.
"I hope you're ready," she said, looking between them. "Because we've found the location of the next Titan shard. And Maeryn's already on the move."
The fire flickered higher, as if the world itself had drawn a breath.
The game had begun again.
But this time, every piece was alive—and every move could break the world.