Back in Manhattan, Nyxavere shook her head with a soft sigh, "Annabelle," she murmured, as though she could see exactly what was happening three thousand miles away in Beverly Hills. Her omniscience allowed her to witness Annabelle's typical lack of diplomacy even while managing a cosmic-scale rescue operation.
There was a reason she'd specifically wanted Annabelle and Elena to welcome a mortal they could erase instantly. If it had been up to her father to decide Karen's fate, the grieving sister would have been memory-wiped and sent home before she could blink. But Nyxavere had other plans—plans that required mortals to witness what came next, to document the truth of who really saved humanity when gods tore reality apart for sport.
Around her, the impossible rescue operation continued within the protective space she had created. What had started as empty air had transformed into a vast, shimmering sanctuary that defied architectural understanding.
