[Sarythran—The Open Grounds—The Queen's Domain]
The earth groaned.
Not cracked—not yet—but remembered.
The Sirrash Queen shifted her colossal weight, stone plates grinding against one another as if the desert itself were drawing breath. Each movement sent tremors racing through the open grounds, rippling dust across broken tiles and half-buried ruins.
Her heartstone pulsed.
Once.Twice.
A slow, terrible rhythm—purple light bleeding through the fissures of her chest like a wounded star.
Levin felt it in his bones.
Lyseraph tightened around his shoulder, claws digging just enough to warn. A low hiss vibrated through the small guardian's body, its silver veins blazing brighter as it stared at the Queen.
"She senses us," Levin murmured.
Zeramet's aura shifted immediately—slow, controlled, and deadly. Scales shimmered along his arms, the gold of his eyes sharpening into slits.
"We begin now," he said.
