“Would you like me to speed this along?”
“What?”
He raises one hand.
Snaps his fingers.
And every remaining Ed on the plateau — thousands of them — just… ripples. Like wind through grass. Like a wave pulling back from shore.
Then they’re gone.
All of them. Swept through the Gate in one gentle rush.
The plateau goes silent. Empty. Snow and stone and nothing else.
I stare at the space where an army of souls stood two seconds ago.
“Hey!” Finn’s voice cuts across the plateau, indignant and bewildered. “The Eds! Where did they— I wasn’t done! I had a whole speech prepared for Ed number five hundred thousand!”
Gods, I love him.
I turn back to the God, pretty sure my expression is somewhere between incredulous and murderous.
“You could have done that the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you—”
“You seemed very determined.” The faintest hint of a smile. “Your ancestors always preferred ceremony.”
“I hadmaterial,” Finn calls out, still sounding betrayed. “Good material. Ed-specific material.”
I shake my head at Finn’s antics. But honestly, I don’t know whether to laugh or punch an ancient deity.
“I’ve been standing here for hours.”
“I noticed.”
“Saying goodbye to individual Eds. My voice gave out. My wings hurt.”
“Also noticed.”
“And you just—” I gesture wildly at the empty plateau. “One finger snap. That’s all it took.”
“Would you have wanted me to do it earlier?”
I open my mouth. Close it.
Because no. I wouldn’t have. Those hours meant something, even if I can’t explain what.
“No,” I admit, hating that he’s right. “I wouldn’t have.”
He nods like that settles it.
I turn to look out over Absentia, mostly to avoid his smug ancient face.
And my breath catches.
