The crown settled into place on her head, its weight neither heavy nor burdensome, but comforting. The serpents that adorned it seemed to come alive, their eyes flickering with ancient wisdom. She could feel the collective power of the three Gorgon sisters coursing through her — Medusa's defiance, Stheno's wrath, and Euryale's sorrow, all intertwined into something stronger, something whole.
The water around her began to shift, swirling faster, pulling her toward the heart of the lake. The shadows whispered louder now, no longer taunting or accusing, but welcoming. They beckoned her to embrace her full power — to merge all the fragmented parts of herself that had been divided by pain, love, and regret.
And so, she stood.
