Nyxara Rising
“Hear me. I didn’t call you for judgment, or for permission. I called because the Continuum reached forward, into the future, and put their hands on a child who wasn’t theirs to claim.”
The woman’s eyes darkened. There, at last, was something like interest—a flicker of caution, perhaps even empathy.
“So,” she murmured, “they’ve chosen inheritance over tradition. They want to rewrite what comes next.”
Nyxara’s voice dropped, steel and ice. “Help them, and you lose whatever mercy I have. Stand with me, you keep your freedom. But try to use me—try to shape me into another tool for your ancient wars—and I promise you this: I will erase you. All of you.”