The roar of rupturing ley lines drowned out thought as raw magic bled from the widening fissure. East staggered, shielding his face as heat and cold surged simultaneously from the rift, an unnatural storm of elements crashing into one another. Behind him, Ilyra screamed through the chaos, "I can't hold it much longer!"
Professor Alaric clutched the stabilizer rune against his chest, sweat pouring down his face as the arcane grid flickered. "We need more time! Just a few more seconds!"
They didn't have a few more seconds.
The distorted Frosts converged, spiraling together into a vortex of shadow and shattered light, forming a single entity of terrifying presence. The man they had once called colleague was now something else entirely—he was a conduit, a living tear through which something ancient and malevolent was attempting to crawl through.
