I raised my hand slightly.
Behind me, in thin air, a spatial distortion began to form. Particles of golden light started to gather, spin, and solidify. In an instant, a large object appeared out of nowhere with a barely audible whoosh.
The Throne of the Creator Goddess from the Ninth Floor.
The pitch-black chair landed on the Martian soil. Its gold accents glittered, and in the center of its high backrest was a large golden Sun emblem.
I walked toward the throne and sat down. Its cold leather felt familiar against my back.
I crossed my right leg over my left with a casual motion. My right hand supported my slightly tilted head, my elbow resting comfortably on the sturdy armrest.
From here, I watched Emma and Natasha beginning to assign tasks to the still-trembling crowd of humans. Emma's firm voice cut through the air, ordering them to form lines. Natasha walked among them, her sword slung casually at her waist, her gaze enough to make grown men lower their heads in fear.
