The sky fractured, torn asunder by a pillar of obsidian light that pulsed with a malice so thick it felt like oil coating the lungs.
It rose from the center of the academy, an inverted waterfall of pure darkness that drowned out the afternoon sun.
Liam stared, his blood running cold.
This wasn't just magic; it was a scar on reality itself.
He knew, with an instinctual dread, that the situation had shifted from a skirmish to a catastrophe.
"Gather up!" he shouted, his voice cracking with urgency.
He gripped his weapon, turning to his companions.
"Simon isn't just lurking, he's at the academy. And he's doing something catastrophic."
The group didn't need convincing.
They sprinted toward the campus grounds, their footsteps thudding against the pavement.
Before they even broke through the main gates, a sound cut through the air, a jagged, hysterical laugh that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
They skidded to a halt at the edge of the central courtyard.
