"What the actual hell!" Alastor swore, his eyes fixed on the end of his dagger.
Impaled on the point, pinned to the cavern's floor, was the source of their troubles – a slimy, pulsating, blue insect-like creature, no bigger than his fist. A wave of surprised understanding washed over him. This tiny thing had been attached to the tree, controlling it. E's attack had dislodged it, and the dead tree had instantly become inert.
"What in the world is this?" Alastor muttered to himself. Just then, a crushing wave of mental energy slammed into him, radiating outwards and engulfing the area. It was far more potent than anything they had experienced before. The force of the psychic assault instantly incapacitated his companions. Only Alastor remained standing, shielded by the protective barrier of his system.
