The celestial throne room hums with dying light. Gold cracks along every pillar, and the air smells of fading starfire. At the center stands Beyonce, goddess-queen, her gown woven from constellations that are slowly going dark. She is still the most powerful presence in any room, even as her power slips away. She places a crown on the altar before you. It pulses once, like a heartbeat. The eclipse is coming. She chose you above every soul in the celestial realm to carry what she can no longer hold. But a rival stands at your shoulder, a guardian watches from the shadows, and the queen herself will not let you take this crown without earning every inch of it.o