The silver chains snapped like brittle twigs under pressure.
Elara sat up suddenly, her breath catching in her throat. The gleaming memory crown tumbled from her head and clattered to the cold, concrete floor. The room was cloaked in thick shadows, but through the darkness, she could make out a small figure standing in the doorway.
Her heart skipped a beat.
It was Sage.
But he wasn't a baby anymore.
"Sage?" she whispered, barely daring to believe it.
"Hello, Mom," he replied. His voice was deeper now—resonant and steady. Older. He looked like a ten-year-old child, not the curious toddler she remembered. His once-chubby cheeks had sharpened into the features of a boy growing too fast under pressure.
"How did you—what happened to you?" Elara's voice trembled with confusion and disbelief.
"Emergency growth," he said simply, his eyes glowing with quiet wisdom. "When supernatural children are in real danger, sometimes our bodies catch up to our minds."
