The arena's pulse was almost unbearable now, the red glow bleeding into every corner of the space.
Zoe's fingers tightened around her staff as she forced herself to focus.
The Tyrant's core hung in the air, threads whipping around it in chaotic, frenzied patterns.
Each one moved faster than the last, a blur of crimson and heat that felt alive.
"It's pulling everything in," Zoe muttered under her breath.
The threads weren't just spinning—they were eating the arena itself.
Bits of stone and debris lifted from the ground, spiraling toward the core in jagged arcs.
The air vibrated with a high-pitched whine that made her teeth ache.
"Then we don't let it," Gavin said, stepping forward with his sword raised.
His voice carried that steady, confident edge that always made it seem like he had a plan, even if he didn't.
"Easy for you to say," Zoe shot back, her heart pounding harder with each pulse of the core.
