[Emma's POV]
The war room was a vault built to withstand gods and monsters, but it was never designed to contain a universe collapsing in on itself. Its cold iron walls hummed with ancient, negation magic, its silver inlays gleaming with sterile purpose. Yet, within that fortress, I was a supernova in a glass jar. The power wasn't something I wielded anymore; it was a second, wilder biology.
I could feel it thrumming in time with my pulse, a network of liquid shadow and cold fire replacing veins and sinew. The room's vaunted "shadowlessness" was a joke. Darkness conspired toward me. It seeped from the minute gaps between stone blocks, stretched long, yearning fingers from the corners, pooling around my feet like loyal, dreadful hounds.
The harsh, magically-fueled lights overhead would
