Her feet settled upon emptiness itself in the air.
Three hundred feet above the shadowed hills, wind curling aside in silent deference, ARIA hung suspended in the velvet dark like a single decisive brushstroke upon the night's vast canvas—she was absolute, undeniable, perfectly placed.
She spread her hands in a slow, deliberate motion, palms turning outward as if offering a gift to an audience visible only to her.
The air before her shimmered to life and energy started became tangible and three luminous screens of pale golden light unfolded from the void and hovered around her, each one a quiet window into the intricate tale she had been weaving across continents for the past several nights.
ARIA's screens projections had gone beyond Peter's could make, hers now seemed to have a life of their own and had gone beyond her ASI Goddess capabilities to now hold spiritual conscious. Or at least seemed to.
