Nyx raised her hand with the casual grace of someone who had decided the universe needed a minor adjustment.
Time shuddered.
Reality hiccupped.
And then everything began to unravel backward.
The beaten gods floating around the throne room like broken toys suddenly snapped back to their feet, their injuries healing in reverse. The blood that had pooled from their defeats flowed backward into their bodies like red rivers running uphill.
Screams of pain became inhales of preparation. Tears of humiliation rolled up cheeks and disappeared into eyes that forgot why they had been crying.
The entire cosmic beatdown played in reverse—weapons flying back into hands, spells unweaving themselves, dimensional prisons opening to release their contents. Zeus's lightning bolt pulled itself out of Iris and returned to his palm.
Poseidon's tsunami of blood became water again, then retreated into whatever realm he'd summoned it from.
