The red light had been snuffed out by darkness.
The eyed hand felt itself ripped from Makun's spirit body, its presence shredded like cloth caught in machinery.
Blood flowed out from it. This time, different from the blood that flowed earlier.
It was viscous and heavy, like the clotted residue that collects in the veins of a long-dead giant, finally rupturing after eons of stillness.
It poured out and fell to the ground.
BANG! BANG!
Each heavy drop struck the asphalt. The surface cratered and split on impact.
The bounded field cracked even more open. Fractures crept across the invisible dome like glass under multiple hammer blows.
BOOM!
Overwhelming spiritual pressure leaked out of it. The air warped and shuddered. The foundation of Hope Rest Shelter trembled, threatening to break.
The eyed hand flickered and dimmed. Its bloody pupil contracted, then dilated wildly.
What... was... that?
Pain. It felt pain. Something it had not experienced in millennia.
