Each impact left its mark.
Fine cracks spread across the surface of the celestial spheres, thin fractures of light branching outward like spiderwebs.
Their glow dimmed for the briefest breath before flaring again. They cracked and healed at the same time, forced into constant regeneration under relentless pressure, their instability mirroring the growing strain inside Reynold himself.
Then came the mental assault.
A sharp, vicious wave of willpower slammed into his mind. Alien voices screamed together, trying to crush his resolve, to drag his awareness into chaos and madness.
Reynold did not even blink.
He pushed through it as if wading through shallow water. His focus never wavered.
At last, the spatial head moved. As Reynold drew close, it cast him a cold, disdainful glance. Its massive form began to dissolve into ripples as a spatial wormhole opened beneath its body.
Unhurried and confident, it slid backward into the folded void, certain of its escape.
