The sky over the municipal district fractured along five violent fault lines as the vortexes converged into a single planar tear.
A colossal arm clad in segmented obsidian carapaces plunged downward through the clouds, displacing thousands of tons of screaming air.
The descending limb was vastly larger than the holographic scouts encountered during the northern border crossings, radiating ancient physical density.
Shockwaves rolled outward from the descending mass, rattling roof slates across the ward and shuddering every reinforced garrison archway.
Along the western ramparts, militia captains threw their shoulders against the timber braces, shouting commands to keep the ballista mountings pinned.
"That is not a disposable astral projection!" Lucan shouted across the square, shielding his eyes from the void squall.
"That is the Collector's true body reaching through the aligned key... if that arm dies here, the main core feels the loss!"
