The tsunami of abyssal horrors—tentacled leviathans, skeletal behemoths fused with coral shadows, and swarms of eyeless, screaming entities—surged forward with unrelenting madness, their forms undulating like a living nightmare born from the depths.
The air thickened with the brine of the sea and the psychic venom of their illusions, but the bastion's diviners were the first to strike back.
Perched atop the concentric walls, their robes billowing in the gale of impending doom, they chanted in harmonious unison, hands weaving intricate patterns that summoned hallowed spells.
Golden threads of light spiraled outward, weaving into a vast net that draped over the advancing wave.
