Reed stood frozen, the heavy weight of the Weed Whacker harness suddenly feeling very useless.
He looked at his team. Terra was a statue. Seraphine was a museum exhibit. Grika was a bug in a jar. They were alive, he could see their eyes moving frantically inside the amber, but they were completely neutralized.
He looked at the woman hovering in front of him.
Amara, the Matriarch of the Rotten Garden. She was beautiful in the way a storm or a forest fire was beautiful. There was an ancient, terrifying majesty to her.
She drifted closer, the vine-throne moving silently over the pool. The scent of her perfume, lavender, rot, and old lace, washed over him, threatening to trigger the [Seduction] debuff.
"Elara," Reed thought, panicked. "Ice. Now."
I'm trying, Elara whimpered. But she feels... familiar. The Void in her... it calls to the Void in us.
Amara stopped three feet away. She leaned forward, her vine-hair reaching out to caress the air around Reed's face.
