her focus sharpened like a blade. Before her, a mirror of divine ether hovered in the air, reflecting nothing but static distortion.
She reached forward with her mana, her will commanding—compelling—the puppet she had lost to return to her influence.
But it didn't move.
There was no response. No flicker of connection. Nothing.
Lucia's brows furrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Again."
She whispered.
Her mana surged—violent and twisting like a serpent—but the puppet remained untouched. Isolated.
Cut off.
It wasn't just disobedience. It was severance.
Lucia's fingers trembled slightly. This had never happened before. Since ascending to godhood, her control over her creations had been absolute.
Her reach, her bonds, her manipulation of the physical and spiritual—all infallible. Puppets obeyed, and souls bent to her will.
Yet now, something—someone—was standing between her and what belonged to her.
