Adams was pouring tea when the first message arrived.
It came as a quiet pressure against the edge of his awareness, polite but urgent — the kind of call only the old gods who still remembered their place under him would risk. He set the teapot down, glanced at the seven women sharing the low table with him, and gave a small nod.
"I'll be a moment."
Mabel raised an eyebrow. Inara smirked. Akira waved him off with a piece of fruit. Nyx, Lilith, Aveline, and Naomi simply watched him go, already used to the way the larger world sometimes tugged at him even on quiet days.
He stepped out onto the open terrace overlooking the main valley. The afternoon sun was warm. Below, the sect moved at its usual steady pace. He closed his eyes and answered the call.
Three lesser gods appeared in projection — a river deity whose essence had darkened at the edges, a mountain spirit looking uneasy, and a minor goddess of the crossroads who kept glancing over her shoulder. They bowed low.
