The Spindle shrieked, a sound that bypassed the ears and tore directly into the minds of everyone in the North. Clevatess's indigo chains were no longer just holding the pillar; they were sinking into it, biting into the white light like teeth. The King's armored form was stretching, his silhouette becoming thin and elongated as he allowed the Spindle's rotation to pull him into its orbit.
He wasn't fighting the spin anymore. He was becoming the center of it.
"Alicia!" Clevatess's voice was a distorted echo, coming from everywhere and nowhere. "The Void-ichor... it is the raw wool of the new age! If I hold the Spindle, you must guide the strand! Tie the Citadel to the core!"
Alicia understood. She didn't hesitate. She plunged the raven-bone pen into the center of the obsidian wall, right where the "Iron Memory" was strongest. Instead of drawing a sigil, she began to pull. A strand of solidified shadow, shimmering with the violet light of the Grave-Sea, emerged from the stone.
She took the end of the shadow-thread and threw it toward the Sky-Fray.
The strand didn't fall. It was caught by the gravity of the Spindle. High above, one of Clevatess's indigo chains lashed out and grabbed the thread, knots of "Stained Reality" sealing the connection.
The effect was instantaneous. The Citadel didn't just stop shaking; it anchored. The "Iron Memory" of the North was now physically tethered to the engine of the universe. The Void-Crawlers outside the walls suddenly began to dissolve, their non-existence unable to survive in a city that was now more "real" than the space around it.
But the cost was visible. The Spindle was slowing, its white light turning a deep, bruised purple as it absorbed Clevatess's essence. The King was being unspooled, his form turning into millions of glowing indigo threads that wrapped around the pillar.
"He's becoming the bobbin," Nelluru whispered, her lime-green aura reflecting off the now-stable obsidian. "He's sacrificing the man to save the world's weight."