Before Ben or Arlo could react to Noah's warning, the air shimmered.
The air pressure in the room spiked, and four cloaked figures materialized out of thin air. They stood in a half-circle, their robes rippling though there was no wind.
Their faces were hidden, their bodies moving in an eerie, synchronized rhythm.
For a single moment, no one moved. Then the figures attacked.
Bolts of dark energy ripped through the air, shattering the chair Ben had been tied to. The floor cracked from the impact, shards of wood and plaster flying.
Noah's reflexes kicked in immediately, and he raised his hand, palm pointed towards them.
"Rot."
A dark wave burst outward from his palm, devouring the energy bolts in the air. They dissolved into dust before they could touch him.
Arlo was already moving, pulling Ben away from the debris.
"Stay behind me!" he barked.
