Nyx, who had appeared soundlessly beside Odin, stood with her arms loosely crossed.
Her expression calm and composed amid the storm of divine confusion that swept through the halls of Asgard.
Her black hair shimmered faintly under the dim light, her eyes glowing like distant stars as she gazed at the spectacle unfolding beyond the veil of worlds.
"That thing you call Ymir," she began in her languid, silken tone, "is nothing more than a vessel now."
"A vessel?" Asked Odin.
Nyx nodded, "The entity that invaded our realm prefers to inhabit rather than manifest, it always chooses hosts that were once deeply tied to the creation of their universe. Primordial beings, the first Earths, the first Giants, those whose existence is interwoven with the birth of their world. By doing so, it gains control of the universe's very foundation. It's the most efficient way to consume a cosmos."
Odin's hand trembled slightly, his knuckles whitening as he gripped Gungnir.
