The moment your foot scrapes backward across the sacred stones, the Starlight Crown flares with sudden intensity. The three figures recoil as if struck, their outstretched hands curling into defensive positions. The High Priestess's milky eyes widen as the ceremonial torches gutter violently, their flames turning an eerie violet.

'You question the constellations themselves?' The Moonweaver's voice fractures like thin ice, her pale form flickering between youthful maiden and withered crone. Behind her, the cliffside begins to fracture, glowing veins of stardust spreading through the rock like lightning forks.

You feel the weight of unseen eyes as new shapes detach from the night sky - a fourth figure coalescing from the aurora borealis now snaking overhead. Its form is indistinct, shifting between dragon and stormcloud, but its voice booms clear: 'The rebel's path is always there... but know that to refuse tradition is to dance with chaos.'

The ground trembles as the ancient standing stones behind you begin to rotate against the starscape, their carved symbols now glowing the same violet as the torches. The High Priestess clutches her chest, whispering, 'The Forgotten Aspect awakens...'