Six Eldritch floated above the debris field, suspended on translucent veils of energy. Their shapes varied, silhouettes of crooked bone, stitched flesh, and mechanical sew.
Each of them a senior Watcher assigned to spatial breach containment.
One of them spoke, its voice layered, dissonant, trembling in frequencies not meant for human comprehension:
"We are not prepared for this."
Another, shaped like a crown of roots with a silver face plate, pulsed in agreement.
"The summoning platform was vaporized. That was not a response. That was... acceptance."
The thir, an eye housed in a rotating cage of bone and blood-veined crystal, focused on the figure standing at the epicenter.
"He hasn't moved, not since reformation."
There he stood...Wang Xiao.
The black robe he wore hadn't been stitched, it had grown from the surrounding matter.
He had shaped his body like a potter with clay, sculpted from aether, stone, and rage.
His hair, filled with energy residue.
His face tense.
