Chapter 32 · Under the Frost Crown

"You're not touching that core." Virrak's voice cut through the ice chamber, sharp enough to draw blood.

I stopped three steps from the platform. The Frost Crown sat in the center, pulsing blue light across walls carved with names I didn't recognize. Except for one. Korde. Repeated in columns, spiraling up into darkness.

"Council's already moving," I said. "If they get here first—"

"They get an ancient army." He limped forward, favoring his left leg where the debris had caught him during the granary collapse. "And if you plug that thing into your skull without knowing what it does, they get the same result. You, dead. Them, unopposed."

I turned to face him. Blood streaked his temple, drying dark against gray hair. "Then what do you suggest? We came this far."

"We secure the perimeter. We figure out what this place actually is." He gestured at the carvings, the frost patterns spreading like veins across black stone. "This isn't just a ruin, Lynn. It's a command center. Pre-fracture. The kind of tech that tore the clans apart in the first place."

"Exactly." I stepped closer to the platform. The core's light reflected in my eyes, made the floating numbers flicker—