They arrived home at sunset to find their estate exactly as they'd left it—peaceful, warded, and blissfully free of surprise parties or cosmic interventions. For approximately thirty seconds, Samantha entertained the fantasy that they could just ignore the broken threshold, the dying children, and the impossible rescue mission they'd somehow committed to.
Then Nova sneezed, and every light in the house flickered in response.
"Right," Samantha sighed. "No avoiding this."
Marcus was already heading for his library before they'd fully unloaded the car, muttering about threshold mechanics and dimensional stability. Kai carried their bags inside with one hand while texting with the other. Callum immediately began cataloging their weapons and supplies, his tactical mind clearly already six steps ahead into planning.
And Samantha stood in the foyer with Nova, watching her three mates slip into crisis mode with the practiced ease of people who'd done this too many times.
