The blinding light seared through the pocket space like a sunrise condensed into a single heartbeat. It washed over them, warm and soft yet powerful enough to make the air thrum.
When it finally dimmed, the egg was gone.
In its place stood a woman.
She was tall—just shy of John's height—but her presence seemed to fill the entire space. A cascade of silky, deep violet hair fell past her waist, shimmering faintly as if catching light from an unseen source. Her eyes matched her hair, a piercing shade of amethyst that seemed to see straight through anyone they landed on.
Her figure was the kind sculptors dreamed of—slender waist, long legs, and curves that made Tony cough involuntarily before looking away. She wore a fitted outfit of black and deep purple silk, its design balanced between elegance and provocation. A high slit ran up the side of her long skirt, revealing smooth, toned thighs with every faint movement. The top clung to her upper body like it had been crafted for her alone, dipping just enough at the neckline to hint at what it concealed. Gold embroidery traced along the hems, giving her an air of royalty. But what was different from other humans was that she had a pair of silver-colored, small curved horns resting atop her head. They gleamed faintly in the dim light, declaring without words that she was something otherworldly.
For a moment, the three men could only stare.
Nyx's gaze swept over them lazily, her expression unreadable. There was an arrogance in the way she carried herself, as though the very air should part to make way for her steps. Every flicker of her eyes, every delicate shift of her lips carried an unspoken weight that demanded reverence. When her eyes landed on John, something changed—her lips curved into the faintest smile, and her voice softened.
"Master," she said, stepping forward with fluid grace, "I've missed you." Her tone held warmth, almost… affection, as if she were greeting a lover returning from a long absence.
John blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift from the monstrous egg she had been to the woman before him. "You… look different."
She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her violet eyes. "Do you not like it?"
"It's… fine," John replied evenly, though his calm tone didn't hide the faint glint of approval in his gaze. Inside, however, he was anything but calm. Nyx clinging so naturally, speaking with such devotion, was overwhelming. He wasn't sure whether to push her away or simply sigh and accept her attachment.
Behind him, Tony muttered under his breath, "Fine? She looks like she walked out of a royal painting… or fantasy novels."
Nyx's gaze snapped toward Tony instantly, the warmth vanishing from her expression. Her eyes narrowed, and when she spoke, her voice was cold and sharp.
"Speak only when spoken to, mortal."
Tony's brows shot up. Typical Tony—his pride was a weapon sharper than any blade. He refused to back down, even in front of something that radiated danger. "Mortal? Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness. Should I bow too?"
"If it spares my eyes the sight of your insolence, then yes," she said without hesitation.
Tony's mouth twitched. "You've got quite the attitude for someone who just crawled out of an egg."
Nyx took a step toward him, and the air seemed to tighten, thickening with a pressure that felt like it could crush bones. "And you've got quite the tongue for someone I could erase with a flick of my fingers."
John's hand lifted slightly, and Nyx stopped instantly, turning back to him with that same warm, almost playful expression. It was jarring—the way she could switch from a predator to a devoted companion at the drop of a hat.
"But… if my master enjoys your presence, I will not stain the ground with you. For now."
Tony crossed his arms, muttering, "Oh, she's just delightful." His tone was dry, but his eyes glittered with mischief. That was Tony's way—he never let anyone see fear on his face, meeting arrogance with sarcasm, even if it meant inviting death itself to his doorstep.
Eccaruss, who had been silent until now, finally exhaled a slow breath. His wrinkled features softened into something between awe and unease. "I've seen beasts transform into humanoid forms before, but this…" His voice was heavy with reverence. "This is beyond rare. I have never imagined that one day I would see a primordial dragon turn into a human."
Nyx turned her head slightly, giving him the faintest of nods. "At least one of you recognizes their place."
Eccaruss chuckled softly, his eyes still fixed on her as though trying to etch every detail into memory. "Oh, I recognize it, girl. I recognize it well. I'm just wondering how long until the others do." There was no fear in his tone—only the curiosity of a man who had lived long enough to see miracles and still be surprised by them.
Nyx ignored him, stepping back to John's side. She slipped her arm through his without hesitation, pressing close enough that he could feel her warmth against him. The act wasn't desperate; it was possessive, a silent claim. She leaned slightly closer in a way that would have seemed romantic if not for the regal control in her movements.
"Wherever you go, I'll follow," she said softly, almost possessively. "And anyone who tries to get between us…" Her eyes flicked toward Tony for the briefest moment, her smile turning razor sharp. "…will regret it."
Tony raised both hands in mock surrender, though his smirk never wavered. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just here to watch the royal drama unfold."
John sighed, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. He could already tell that this was going to be a problem—Nyx's arrogance, Tony's stubborn wit… and him, stuck in the middle with no clear way to rein any of them in.
And so, in the stillness of the pocket space, the balance had shifted. The creature they had once guarded was gone—replaced by a woman whose beauty could topple kings, whose attitude could start wars, and whose loyalty to John was as absolute as her disdain for everyone else.