"I should be returning to the divine realm now," Sunny's projected voice said, the cosmic energy that formed his image beginning to shimmer, preparing to dissolve. But before he could vanish, a hesitant voice called out, filled with a desperate, fragile hope.
"God Cosmos… could I ask for another favor?" Medusa stood before him, her earlier confidence replaced by the vulnerability of a supplicant.
Sunny's projection stabilized. He chuckled internally; Thea's analysis had already predicted this very request. "Go on," he said, his tone patient. "I do not know when we will meet again. It is better to listen to your favors while I can."
Medusa's face, a mask of resolve, lit up. She turned and ran back towards the deep darkness of her cave. She returned moments later, her immense strength straining as she carried a colossal, three-headed serpent made of cold, lifeless stone.
