The word "[Celestial Wheel]" echoed in David's mind, a whispered command that sent a jolt through his very being. His eyes, once normal, blazed open, and transformed into swirling maelstroms of cerulean and white. The crimson orbs, harbingers of fiery destruction, plummeted towards him, their descent echoing with an infernal hum.
David moved with an impossible grace, a dance honed on the precipice of death. He ducked and weaved, a whisper against a howling storm. Each orb slammed into the earth with a thunderous boom, pulverizing the ground and sending a shower of debris skyward. With a burst of speed that left him a blur, he rocketed towards an ancient, moss-covered fountain – the only hope for cover in the open courtyard.
