The arrival of the Prime Consciousness sent shockwaves through reality itself, its presence causing the very air to crystallize and shatter in recursive patterns. But before its full attention could focus on the Seventh Fold, Kaetha moved with desperate efficiency.
"The Crimson Ascension," she commanded, her voice cutting through the dimensional static. "Now, Lyralei. Before it notices us fully."
From the crystalline floors of the central spire, ancient geometries began to emerge—patterns that hurt to perceive directly, sigils that existed in dimensions the human mind wasn't equipped to process. The Sanguine Court screamed in unison as the symbols carved themselves into their bio-mechanical flesh, their neural links flaring with pain that transcended physical sensation.
"What are you doing to them?" Lyralei's voice carried the distress of forty thousand minds experiencing sympathetic agony.
