Chapter 19: The Writbane
The room lit up from the bright red light shining from the brazen gauntlets, flagging in the air from their soft material.
Light gloves, Kaia fitted them, allowing herself a moment to assimilate their aether and feel for its power.
"Amazing..." she murmured, opening and closing her fist repeatedly.
With a single swipe at the air, Rowan felt his hair wave behind him, almost being flung back from the sheer pressure.
It was a huge disparity--the difference between the power she now adorned with the gloves and the power she had just moments ago shining like the bright sun.
Alfred smiled, tapping her shoulder while stepping forward to search for his next victim.
"Then, if it's to your tastes, I'll continue with my cataloguing of weapons."
His hand trailing Lucien's grimoire, his eyes were closed, humming the same tune. This continued as he felt for the others' as well, only stopping once he'd reached Rowan's.
He hovered over it for just a moment, his expression far more dense with a serious undertone filling the air.
He swerved his shoulders around the opposite direction, ignoring it to motion Oren the proper components needed for their weapons.
Like a game's animation playing back to the player, Oren jumped up and repeated the same steps, reaching for the necessary materials.