There was no clever technique that would turn this around. No hidden reserve of power to draw on. No way to talk or manipulate or scheme her way out.
She'd gambled everything on becoming powerful enough to challenge the cosmic order, and she'd failed catastrophically. Her son, the vessel she'd used, the sacrifice she'd made, had returned more powerful than anything she could achieve.
And now he was going to make her pay.
The watching audience saw it too.
Saw the moment Suyajna's resistance broke, when bravado gave way to genuine terror. The daemon goddess who'd killed Sovereigns, who'd declared her intention to reshape reality, was reduced to a broken thing pinned beneath the foot of someone she'd underestimated in the most fundamental way possible.
Morgana, watching from a distance, felt her own certainty cracking. She'd believed in Suyajna's vision. Had trusted that the plan would work, that they'd create something better through Jaenor's sacrifice.
