Is it stable?" I asked, my voice a whisper, as though speaking any louder might shatter the delicate balance of the moment.
The battlefield around us, now eerily quiet, felt like the eye of a storm that had passed but could easily return. The looming presence of the imprisoned abomination, suspended and slowly rotating in the space beyond the pagoda's shields, still radiated a nauseating sense of wrongness. It was no longer thrashing, no longer tearing at the fabric of reality itself, but we all knew it was far from defeated.
