Starboy didn't hesitate.
The moment the vibration rolled through the chamber—low, deep, wrong—he fired.
Light tore from his hands in twin beams, slamming into the ice block encasing Frostbite and Charles.
The surface didn't shatter. It resisted. Layers of reinforced frost cracked, reformed, then cracked again as the heat bored into it inch by inch—slow, stubborn, infuriating.
"Come on—come on—" Starboy growled under his breath, boots skidding as he braced harder, feet carving shallow lines in the stone floor.
The vibration hit again.
Stronger.
Dust rattled loose from the ceiling. Pebbles danced near Don's boots. The chamber responded with a deep groan, like something massive shifting its weight far away.
Don wasn't looking at the ice.
He was looking past it, the same direction Frostbite and Charles looked weakly toward.
More than a kilometer out, through layered stone, Beastshift peeled the dark open and showed him what was coming.
It was big.
Too big.
