Then it happened.
A violent eruption of Myst surged from Liam's body, shattering the silence like thunder splitting the heavens. Bolts of dark, gold, and violet lightning rippled from him in brilliant, crackling arcs, and painting the air in radiant chaos.
Morenelle's eyes went wide as her head snapped toward the explosion of energy. The detonation of magic itself meant nothing to her—it was the presence behind it that made her body vanish instinctively, reappearing a great distance away.
"...What... what is that?" she breathed, more to herself than anyone else.
Without her own will, Nyxie dissolved into countless threads of darkness, crawling low and fast across the ground like a living shadow, racing toward the origin of the eruption.
As she neared him—just moments before merging back into the sanctuary of Liam's shadow—she felt it.
A new presence.
A pressure so dense and terrifying it made even her ethereal body feel heavy. Something vast, ancient, and very terrifying.
