Emma leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “I don’t know what the final trial is.”“I do,” Steve said. His voice dropped, barely audible. “It’s him. The Frost Sovereign. The Citadel’s guardian. He won’t send another monster. He is the final monster.”She closed her eyes, letting the truth settle between them.Then Steve whispered, “And I’ll be right beside you when you face him.”Emma nodded.Her voice, when it came, was a whisper of flame: “Then we face him together.”And somewhere above them, the Sovereign felt her resolve.And smiled.The doors to the Trial Chamber groaned open—tall enough to admit a giant, etched with runes so old they pulsed like a heartbeat. Emma walked forward, flanked by Steve, Marcus, Long, and Sarah. The cold here was ancient. It wasn’t weather. It was memory.The room was carved from clear crystal ice, endlessly tall, ringed with jagged pillars that resembled frozen lightning. At its heart stood a solitary figure, back turned, robed in white so pure
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