Your voice rises in the ancient melody, the words formed from a language older than the cliffs themselves. The star-song vibrates through your teeth, each syllable causing the liquid light to tremble around your arms. The Moonweaver's head snaps up, her ever-changing eyes locking onto you with sudden intensity. Even the boiling sea stills its fury to listen.

The celestial chains begin to unwind, responding to the song's frequency like iron to a lodestone. The cracked gems in the crown pulse in time with your grandmother's lullaby, their broken facets knitting back together with threads of golden light. The High Priestess watches in awe as your voice resonates with the very fabric of the cosmos, her wrinkled hands pressed against her heart.

As the final notes leave your lips, the Starlight Crown floats gently from your grasp, turning slowly in the air above you. The three guardians step forward as one, their earlier offense forgotten. The Voidwalker speaks first, its voice like solar winds through dead space: 'This song was lost when the First Queen fell into the Eventide.' The crown's points realign themselves, no longer resisting as it descends toward your brow.

The moment the metal touches your skin, the night sky detonates into color. Comets streak across the heavens in approval, tracing your new royal sigil among the stars. The priestess weeps openly as your ceremonial robes transform - silver threads becoming actual stardust, the fabric now woven from nebulae. The sea calms, its waves now carrying bioluminescent messages from distant ocean worlds.