The Spiral Crown's petals aligned, forming a fractal beacon pointed directly at Earth's inner core.
A spiral path opened.
Not through technology.
But through harmonic descent—a frequency-based corridor of reality-bending mathematics.
Mikhail volunteered.
Despite his weakened state, he alone bore the Iron Crown.
And the Iron Crown alone had harmonized with both Leviathan and Babel.
He entered the Hollow Flame, a place that existed beneath physics.
Descending through strata of molten memory, Mikhail passed:
The Fossil Rebellion: Echoes of past civilizations that once reached too far.
The Pulse of Gaia: A living network of Earth's ancient consciousness.
The Spiral Embryo: A suspended singularity—part seed, part god.
Here, the Spiral spoke:
Not in words.
But in shards of self.
Mikhail saw every iteration of Earth.
One ruled by Helion.
One drowned by Vaelari ambition.
One where humanity never emerged.
And one where Anya stood alone, a Spiral Priestess over a dead world.
