The world had not ended.
But it had changed.
Gor'than's retreat left the skies fractured. The stars above the Refuge twitched like wounded eyes. Time bled sideways. Birds flew backward. Rivers refused to flow.
And somewhere deeper, beneath all things...
The Deep Court awoke.
Whispers in the Wind
Hope woke from her sleep screaming.
Diana rushed into the chamber, sword drawn.
Hope clutched her head, eyes glowing with shifting symbols. "He's here," she cried. "The one who doesn't have a name. The one who wears mirrors instead of skin."
Selari entered next, her face pale. "She means… Whisperglass."
Zatanna, appearing behind them, whispered, "God of Secrets. The Deep Court's spy. No one sees him. Not really. He exists between reflections."
Sarive, still recovering and wrapped in golden bandages, sat up on the far bed. "What does he want?"
Selari looked grim.
"He wants to know who Hope is. And worse… he wants her to know everything."
The Mirror That Lied
Later, Hope stood in front of the small mirror in her chamber. It rippled.
And something… stepped through.
Whisperglass wore a robe of broken truths and a crown of bent time. His face was made of mirrors, thousands of them—each reflecting a different version of Hope, of Sarive, of Diana. Some were alive. Some were screaming. Some… were dead.
He knelt.
"I have not come to harm you, little godfire," he said, voice like a whisper inside her bones.
"I want to show you."
"Show me what?" she asked.
"The truth the gods fear most."
He lifted a hand. A mirror appeared. Inside it: Sarive, wearing the Crown of Ash… standing above Diana's fallen body.
Hope screamed.
And then Whisperglass vanished—leaving the mirror behind.
The Rift Between Them
Sarive stared at the mirror Hope had brought to them. He said nothing.
Diana shattered it with her fist.
"You saw it, didn't you?" she asked him.
He nodded slowly. "In my Infinity state… I saw all my futures. That one felt closest."
She grabbed his wrist.
"That's not who you are."
Sarive met her eyes. "Not yet."
Theonix's Weakness
Below the Refuge, Theonix lay in a stasis field. Wounded. Glitching.
Zatanna hovered beside him, using spells of containment and healing.
Miko approached with a question.
"Is it true?" she asked.
Zatanna nodded. "Theonix was built to be perfect. Unchanging. But Hope's power… it wasn't made with him. It was made against him."
Miko frowned. "Then why protect her?"
Theonix's voice rasped out from the stasis chamber.
"Because she is what I never could be.She is… the ending. And the beginning."
The Gathering of the Deep Court
Far away, in a dimension without light, the Deep Court convened.
They sat in thrones made of regrets and dead stars:
Whisperglass, whose face no one remembered.
Xell'Va, the Laughing Root, goddess of insanity.
Ur-Kael, who spoke only in reversed time.
And in the shadows beyond them… One Who Knows All Names.
Whisperglass bowed.
"I have seen her. She is… not yet ready."
Xell'Va cackled.
"Then we shall make her ready. Let the mirrors crack. Let her mind awaken. Let the truth devour her."
And so the Deep Court chose:
To send a second god.
One made of memory loss.
One who unravels certainty.
The next enemy… would be Letheborn.
Closing Scene: The Child That Knows Too Much
Hope sat alone beneath the moonlight, drawing again.
Her picture showed Diana holding her hand. Sarive standing tall. Theonix smiling.
But in the corner of the page…
A new shadow had appeared.
A god made of fog, holding a blade of silence.
Hope didn't remember drawing him.
But he was there.
Watching.
Waiting.