At that very instant, the bridge stabilized.
Those already fighting across it reacted first, many of them stumbling or snapping their attention downward as the violent tremors beneath their feet suddenly disappeared. For one brief moment, a large portion of the battlefield thought the entire structure was collapsing, only for the opposite to happen as fractured sections fused together, warped stretches straightened, and the unstable void surrounding it settled into a smooth, perfected path.
Very few understood what had happened, and fewer still thought to look toward the distant figure hanging high above them like little more than a dot against the starry skies. Sylas didn't give them much time to wonder, though, because one of his hands remained tucked into his pocket while the other lifted, his index finger pointing downward.
Then he pressed.
An enormous finger of reflective emerald formed above the battlefield.
