The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Not amplified—just present, like a thought that wasn't your own. The constellation above rippled.

A pause. The hall held its breath.

The silver lights above rearranged. Two sigils drifted toward each other, colliding in a brief flare of gold.

Somewhere to your left, a ripple of movement. A head of pale blonde hair turned, unmistakable even in the dim light. The crowd parted slightly, and you caught his profile—sharp jaw, colder expression than you remembered. His eyes found yours.