Chapter 117: Initiating Forced Shutdown
The rod cracked against the air. Then all sound fell away.
The duo raised their hands like conductors invoking the overture of a war-symphony. Kaldrin’s left gauntlet dissolved into strings of light-encoded symbols. Golden loops unraveled from his wrist, each one forged from braided light, each link interlocking with the rod’s pattern like a clasp finding its twin.
The Fold mouth, an ugly, writhing mouth of spatial impropriety, tore.
The boundary wrenched; cracks bloomed along its rim as if the very fabric of the place was tearing itself open under protest. Lorvan angled the rod down like a spear being twisted into a joint. Simultaneously, Kaldrin yanked the chain forward, and the rod-chain spearheaded in two directions, ripping the mouth further apart with a growling sound Fabrisse felt in the enamel of his teeth before he even registered it in his ears.
They’re not just casting, Fabrisse realized. They’re amplifying through glyphcraft.
He’d been behind for so long that he forgot there were so many branches of magic to look into just within Thaumaturgy itself.
| [Event Trigger (Deepening Understanding): INT +1 | Current Intuition: 26] |