In between worlds, there is a bar.
In the bar, at the moment, there is a woman sitting at a table. She's scribbling in a notebook. Extant phrases include "abortion=surrogacy?" and "add sterile mosquitos to malarial areas"
"Hmm. Yes, there are people living on Mars in my world and it's not terraformed. It's probably easier to do by divine fiat than by the kind of magic system the Martians have, though."
"I'm probably going to be less uncontroversial than you were planning," she warns.
She un-musses the slight musses her hair and clothes acquired when she had a minor quasibreakdown at Keturah's (with a spell, not a miracle, no point in wasting juice and it's not like Fred can tell the difference) and says, "Ready."
Okay.
Got to get this right.
You only get one chance to make a first impression.
"People of Earth," she says, her voice suitably regal, her face perfectly composed. "My name is Christina Theodora. Over the past weeks, I have made myself known to you in deed. Today I come to make myself known to you in word. To explain my true nature, who and what I am."