Sophia's breath caught. "A prophecy?"
The goddess nodded, and suddenly the space around them shifted. Words appeared in the cosmic void, glowing with silver light, written in a language Sophia somehow understood despite never having seen it before:
"She'll begin her journey through nightmares and pain,
A child of two worlds, where magic shall reign.
Born of the impossible, forged in the fire,
She'll rise from the ashes, climbing ever higher.
Five bonds shall find her, five souls intertwined,
Leaders and lords of each powerful kind.
Alpha and Prince, Archmage divine,
Mates of her spirit, their fates aligned.
Together they'll stand when the darkness descends,
Warriors and lovers, protectors and friends.
Six guardians chosen, one from each kind,
Protectors by fate, with destiny aligned.
From ancient bloodlines, six species shall send
Their strongest, their truest, to guard and defend.
Wolf, Elf, and Mage, Vampire, Mer, and Man,
Each bound to her service by fate's hidden plan.
Not lovers but family, sworn by their creed,
To stand at her side in her hour of need.
She'll wake the dead world, bring magic to Earth,
Restore what was stolen, prove infinite worth.
An empress of all, both the ancient and new,
She'll unite the divided, make broken things true.
Through trials and terror, through loss and through love,
She'll bridge the realms below and above.
And when the final battle is fought and is won,
The age of the Empress will have just begun."
Sophia stared at the words, her mind reeling. "You've got to be kidding me," she whispered. "Bring magic to Earth? Rule over magical beings? Five mates? An Empress?" She looked at the goddess with wide, panicked eyes. "I can barely handle my regular life! I work in a café! I worry about paying rent! How am I supposed to do... any of that?"
"You will learn," the goddess said simply. "You will grow. You will become what you were always meant to be."
"But I don't want to be an empress! I don't want to unite realms or fight darkness or any of it!" Sophia's voice rose, desperation bleeding through. "I just want to be normal! I just want to live my life without people dying or dimensions collapsing or—"
"Normal was never an option for you, child," the goddess interrupted, not unkindly. "From the moment you were conceived, your fate was written. You can run from it, hide from it, deny it all you wish. But it will find you regardless. The only choice you have is whether you face it prepared or unprepared. Strong or broken. Alone or with those who would stand beside you."
Sophia thought of Marc. Of Alexander. Of the way they'd both looked at her tonight, like she was something precious, something worth protecting. Were they part of this? Part of the five bonds the prophecy mentioned? The thought should have terrified her—and it did—but somewhere deep inside, beneath the fear and grief and overwhelming confusion, she felt something else.
A spark. Small but fierce. A tiny flame of determination that refused to be extinguished.
Maybe she couldn't do this. Maybe she'd fail spectacularly and doom everyone. But her mother had given everything to bring her into this world. Her father had spent thirty years searching for her. They'd believed she was worth it. Worth the sacrifice, worth the pain, worth the cost.
Maybe... maybe she owed it to them to at least try.
"I don't know if I can do this," Sophia admitted quietly, her voice small in the vast cosmic space. "I'm scared. I'm so scared."
"Fear is not weakness," the goddess said, and for the first time, she smiled. "Fear is proof that you understand the weight of what lies ahead. But you are stronger than you know, Sophia. You carry your mother's power and your father's strength. You are the impossible made real. And you will not face this alone."
Sophia closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely now. She thought of Jasmine and Althander, of the love she'd seen between them, of the sacrifice they'd made. She thought of the prophecy, of the destiny waiting for her, of the impossible task of bringing magic back to a dead world.
And somewhere, deep in her soul, she felt something wake. Something ancient and powerful and utterly terrifying.
Her legacy. Her burden. Her purpose.
"Okay," she whispered, opening her eyes to meet the goddess's gaze. "Okay. Show me what I need to do."
The vision faded, and Sophia found herself floating in that endless cosmic space once more, but this time she couldn't hold it together. She couldn't be strong or sassy or pretend this was fine.
She broke.
A sob tore from her throat—raw, agonizing, the kind of sound that came from somewhere so deep inside it felt like her soul was tearing in half. Her hands came up to cover her face as tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and endless. "No, no, no, no..." she kept repeating, her voice cracking with each word. That baby was her. She was that baby. The one with the note pinned to her blanket. The one thrown through a portal into a world with no magic, no family, no one who could explain why she'd always felt so different, so wrong, so other.
She'd spent her entire life thinking she'd been abandoned. Unwanted. Left on the steps of that orphanage because she wasn't good enough, wasn't normal enough, wasn't enough. She'd built walls around that pain, told herself it didn't matter, that she didn't need anyone. But it had all been a lie.
Her mother hadn't abandoned her—her mother had given everything for her. Had burned through her own life force, just to bring Sophia into the world and protect her for those few precious moments, left collapsed and lifeless on that island. And her father... gods, her father had been ripped away from her, imprisoned, broken, left to search for thirty years without knowing if she was even alive.