Asterion shot me a grim nod, acknowledging the danger. He stepped forward first, releasing a short flick of arcane energy from his dagger. It cut through the illusions in a ragged slash, but the meltdown responded with a vicious snap of tendrils that lashed out, crackling with enough force to burn. I lunged between him and the altar, absorbing the brunt of the energy with my coat, though it left a scorching line across my forearm. Pain flared white-hot. I bit back a hiss—pain was a distraction, a wedge illusions could use. Instead, I swung my blade in a savage downward arc, shattering the illusions that tried to re-form around me. Sparks flew, coalescing into fractal shards that pelted my shoulder and stung like dozens of tiny needles.