The afternoon air outside the Crimson Red Gate in Sector IV buzzed, the portal's crimson glow casting bloodlight across the cordoned-off street.
Reporters huddled behind barricades, their cameras flashing—click-click—while drones whirred overhead—bzzz—capturing the gate's hypnotic shimmer. Civilians were still present today as well, pressed against the barriers, those same signs in their hands—"CLOSE THE GATES," "SAVE OUR CITY."
Members of the Red Phoenix Guild stood vigilant in their white and red uniforms, their faces taut, hands resting on weapons.
Naomi stood, arms folded, and stared at the portal with a scowl, while Elias, with his grim expression, scanned the crowd, his fingers twitching near his sword hilt.
The portal pulsed suddenly—WHMMM—its crimson surface rippling violently, and a sharp SCRAAAAPE echoed, like claws raking stone.
Jagged black claws split the gate's center, glowing with a strange golden voidlight, as if something were prying it open from within.
