Silver, gold, purple—three colors of pure cosmic authority danced around her figure, weaving into her bones.
Her bones cracked.
Her muscles tore.
Then regenerated instantly.
Her bloodline was transforming.
Her child pulsed again, pushing a warmth of energy through her, resulting in hee stabilisation.
Without the unborn baby, she would have died instantly.
From the moment Angy had began the ritual, reality trembled.
The airless vacuum of deep space warped around her suspended form as tendrils of silver-white radiance burst from the bottles containing Gustav's scattered essences. The light spiraled in wide arcs, pulling inward like a cosmic whirlpool and sinking into her body in heavy pulses. Her veins glowed like molten starlines as a metallic disk platform was created beneath their feet.
The first wave of energy wasn't quiet.
It wasn't subtle.
It roared through the universe like a cosmic scream.
