The space between realities was emptier than Marcus remembered.Just him and the Unmaker. Floating in nothing. Waiting."WHERE ARE THEY?" Marcus asked."COMING. PRIMORDIALS MOVE IN THEIR OWN TIME."Marcus waited. Minutes felt like hours in the void. No reference points. No sense of time.Then reality shifted.Four beings appeared. Each massive. Each incomprehensible. Each radiating power that made the Unmaker look small."THE CREATOR," the Unmaker introduced. "BRINGS EXISTENCE FROM NOTHING."The Creator looked like pure light. Constantly shifting. Forming shapes. Stars. Galaxies. Life."THE PRESERVER. MAINTAINS STABILITY."The Preserver was solid. Unchanging. A presence that felt eternal. Immovable."THE CHANGER. DRIVES EVOLUTION."The Changer flickered constantly. Never the same form twice. Always moving. Always shifting."THE ENDER. BRINGS CONCLUSIONS."The Ender was darkness. Not evil darkness. Natural darkness. The kind that came when things finished."TOGETHER WE FIVE SHAPED EARL

The Nevada desert was exactly as Marcus remembered. Hot. Empty. Dead.He stood in the middle of nothing, looking at more nothing. Sand stretched in every direction. The sun beat down hard enough to make him dizzy."This is where we're building a city?" Devon asked, squinting at the horizon. "There's literally nothing here.""That's the point," Rachel said. "We get to build it exactly how we want.""Except the history that happened right there," Elena said quietly, pointing.Marcus didn't need to look. The Vesper's cathedral had stood two hundred yards away. It was gone now, cleared by the government. But he could still see it in his mind. The black walls. The screaming. Ares dying in his arms."You okay?" Elena touched his shoulder."No," Marcus said honestly. "But I will be."A portal opened behind them. Blue light spilled across the sand. People started walking through. Lots of people.Athena came first, followed by Kenji and his tech team. Then construction workers, engineers, arch

The first thousand people arrived on a Tuesday.Marcus watched them come through the portal. Gods and mortals, young and old, carrying bags and hope. They stepped into the Nevada desert and looked around at the half-built city."One thousand," Devon said, checking his tablet. "Six hundred mortals, four hundred gods. Ahead of schedule.""For now," Elena said. "Getting the first thousand is easy. Everyone wants to be part of history. The next nine hundred ninety-nine thousand will be harder.""Welcome!" Rachel called from a platform. "Welcome to the city that doesn't have a name yet!"Nervous laughs."We're still building," Rachel continued. "Still figuring things out. But you're here at the beginning. You'll help decide what this place becomes."A mortal woman raised her hand. "Where do we live?""Blue flags for housing," Rachel said. "Temporary shelters until your permanent homes are finished. About two weeks.""Food?" a young god asked."Red flags for dining hall. Three meals a day.

Two months since the sabotage. City population: three thousand."We need fifteen thousand by month three," Devon said. "We have three thousand.""Why aren't people coming?" Marcus asked."Because they're scared," Elena said, hand on her stomach. Three months pregnant and showing. "Building collapse. Saboteur. Water rationing. Why risk it?""Because integration is important," Marcus said weakly."Is it more important than safety?" Elena asked.Marcus didn't have an answer."We need a new approach," Rachel said. "Waiting for volunteers isn't working.""What do you suggest?" Athena asked."We go to them," Rachel said. "Show them what we're building.""A demonstration project," Kenji said.Rachel nodded. "Invite skeptics. Let them live here for a week.""That's risky," Mia said. "What if they see all our problems?""They already know our problems," Rachel said. "We can't hide failures. But we can show we're solving them."Bold. Maybe too bold. But desperate times."How many?" Marcus asked

Marcus didn't sleep that night.He sat at the kitchen table, studying the threatening note. Elena had gone to bed hours ago. The house was quiet."The city will burn. Integration will fail. You will all die."The handwriting bothered him most. Beautiful. Flowing letters. Perfect spacing. Whoever wrote this had taken their time.Like they were proud."You should sleep," Daphne said from the doorway.Marcus looked up. The nymph wore a simple nightgown, looking younger. Less fierce lieutenant, more tired woman."Can't," Marcus said. "Thinking.""About who would write it?" Daphne sat across from him."This isn't some angry resident. This is calculated. Personal.""You have plenty of enemies," Daphne said."But they're not here," Marcus said. "Whoever wrote this is in the city. Close enough to slip a note under my door unseen."Daphne studied the note. "The handwriting is educated. Formal. Almost old-fashioned.""Like someone who learned to write centuries ago," Marcus said.Their eyes met