I squint through the glare of the lights to the front row. To Jessica’s assistant, who crosses his arms and shifts in his seat like a bored four-year-old at a movie, as if he’s already predicted exactly what I will do.

Well, think again, bucko.

“I think everyone knows who I am,” I begin in Jessica’s sweet voice, turning my gaze to the audience, “and the most terrifying villain is, without a doubt, m—”

The stage lights flicker.

A crackling boom erupts from the speakers.

And a masculine voice, low and soft, purrs:

“Me.”

I jerk back from the microphone. What’s happening?

Everyone twists around, craning their necks to glimpse the source of the voice. Darien and Calvin look over, as if I’m the one doing it, but I shake my head. The lights flicker brightly again and then go out.

Something catches the corner of my eye.

A figure is coming up the back stairs to the stage, a golden robe billowing behind him, glimmering like the sun.

My stomach flops.

Me, I was going to say. Amara. But I’d forgotten about one villain. He was in only a few episodes but sent invisible spiders crawling across my skin the second I first saw him. The Nox King may be scary, but he’s nothing like this guy.

The figure in the gold costume stalks in front of the panel table; in the darkened room, his uniform shines like it’s made of the sun itself. Lights embedded in his cape blink and sparkle, neon-yellow piping underneath his crisp Noxian uniform glows. But he’s not Noxian, not in the least, with long white-blond hair braided down one shoulder and his pointed yet human cheekbones. He wears fear on his sleeves like precious cuff links and tugs at them as he stops center stage.

Is he here to interrupt the panel? Darien and Calvin don’t seem to understand either. They’re looking back at the volunteer behind the stage and then at Amon.

Who is smiling.

Oh. I get it.

This is part of the program.

The golden man outstretches his arms, and in the darkness I can hear the murmur of the crowd, the click of cell phone cameras, the rustling of bodies to get a better view.

He says, “My brothers, have you missed me?”

The crowd is silent.

Then everyone who has seen the show, anyone who knows who this golden knight is, collectively loses their minds. Like the christening of a champagne bottle against a new ship, I hear a thousand Tumblr stansites being born. The noise is so loud my waterglass vibrates, as if this guy’s the second coming of Loki at San Diego Comic-Con.

He holds up two white-gloved hands, lowers them gently, and the crowd quiets again, under his spell.

My heart races. Darien leans over and whispers, “Did you know?”