POV: Lyric

My wife was giving birth while reality itself was under attack. Thea screamed through another contraction. Time fractured around us. I saw our baby as an infant. As a toddler. As an adult. As an elderly person. All existing simultaneously.

"Lyric," Thea gasped, gripping my hand. "The baby. It's everywhere. Everywhen. I can't anchor it to just one timeline."

"You can. We can. Together." I was terrified. Twenty-four years old, void-touched empath, completely unprepared to be a parent to a cosmic entity.

But I was here. And I loved Thea. And we were doing this.

Riley stood at the foot of the medical bed. Seventy-five years old and...