The moment the bloody runes were drawn, they twisted and grew. Like living creatures, they intertwined across the crystal's surface, forming ninety-nine interlocking astral orbits. Like a madwoman, Witch gouged out her own eyes, crushed them, and smeared the gore over the crystal orb.
The ritual circle awoke. The runes burst into flame. An impenetrable darkness swallowed Witch as overlapping, ancient whispers filled the air.
The whispers ultimately coalesced into a single name in her ears: Commander. It was less a word and more an echoing resonance. Yet, within her mind's eye, the eyeless Witch truly saw that one name.
"Hehehe... around and around we go, and it all leads right back to the Champions Alliance!" She cackled. "Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!"
The wind blew, and sand drifted down. A faint, salty tang hung in the damp cavern air.
Shortly after, Clown materialized in the cavern. He stared at the smeared remains of the magic circle on the ground, his expression grim.
