The morning began with a thunderclap. Not from the sky—no, the skies above the Sanctum were perfectly clear—but from inside the nursery.
A flash of violet light pulsed out from under the door, followed by a resounding boom! that shook the stone walls. Marcus leapt from bed, shirtless and sword-in-hand, before realizing it was just Nova again.
"She's expressing herself," Kai said groggily, trudging down the hall with his hair sticking out in six different directions.
"She exploded her diaper," Callum muttered, half-covered in soot. "Again."
Samantha was already there, swaddling Nova in a warded blanket, laughing despite the charred mobile above the crib. "She's learning to blink energy. We should be proud."
Marcus, less proud and more scorched, muttered, "She teleported her spit into my boot yesterday."
The rest of the day unfolded in a series of increasingly comedic misadventures.
