The Gallery of the Damned detonated into a tempest of boiling crimson fluid, emerald poison flames, and roaring pressurized water as the four of them charged straight through the center of the hall.
The three-inch layer of pulsating blood-rot liquid beneath their feet surged upward, attempting to bind their boots and siphon their vital energy. But before the pale, ash-white hands could close around Kyle's ankles, Seraphina slammed the butt of her ocean trident onto the stone walkway.
"Ocean Art: Tides of Purification!" Seraphina shouted.
