Rowan’s POV
The abyss trembled.
The cracks that split the wasteland glowed with molten fire, veins of crimson light threading outward until the entire expanse pulsed like a living wound. Rowan clung to Quinn, heart hammering, his fire flickering uncertainly in his palms. He thought the titan was the trial—that crushing shadow, that voice of his doubt. But now… now something else stirred.
It rose from the fissure slowly, as though the abyss itself was being peeled apart to make way. At first, Rowan thought it was smoke, a shape without form. But then the smoke solidified into a figure cloaked in white flame, its edges shifting between man and beast, crown and horn, mask and face.
It was everything and nothing. Beautiful and terrible. Ancient and endless.
The Sovereign.
Its presence pr
