Before Pyris could comprehend the meaning of the last system notification, a sudden, oppressive pressure descended upon the chamber like an unrelenting tide. It was overwhelming, suffocating, and inescapable.
Alera was the first to falter since she was near. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she dropped to the ground, clutching her chest as though an invisible force sought to crush her ribcage. Her violet eyes dimmed, and her lips trembled as she bit down hard to stifle a scream.
Shadows flickered uncontrollably around her, betraying her inner turmoil.
Seren, ever the unyielding vampire warrior, gritted her teeth as she, too, succumbed to the weight of the pressure.
Her warhammer fell from her grasp, clanging against the cold, unfeeling floor. She clawed at her throat, her fangs bared, as if struggling for breath. Blood-red sparks danced along her fingers, but even her vampiric strength seemed utterly futile against the crushing force.