The Root echo reached full formation on a Tuesday which felt weirdly mundane for fighting a natural disaster made of ancient evil power, and Hope was five months old insisting she could help fight it because apparently our daughter had strong opinions about family combat participation.
"No." All five of us said it simultaneously which would have been funny if we weren't actively preparing to face something that made demon threats look manageable.
"But I help!" Her protest came with a small temporal freeze that caught the breakfast table. "I strong!"
She was strong. Absurdly strong for a five-month-old. Could freeze time in ten-meter radiuses. Could teleport across rooms. Could age things decades with focus.
She was also five months old and there was absolutely no reality where we brought our infant daughter to fight a Root echo.
