The barrier cracked—loud, sharp. Like the world itself was groaning beneath the weight of what had just been unleashed.
Quinn flinched, eyes moving to the shimmering glass above them. The once-pristine dome now pulsed with cracks, hairline at first, then spreading like webbing. Each impact from the raging explosion outside deepened them, made the whole thing quiver with strain.
Lilith's hands were still stretched, locked in place, knuckles white with pressure. Her breath came sharp and shallow. Magic flared wildly around her, raw and jagged, like she was trying to hold back a flood with nothing but will.
He could see her shaking.
And then, her mind slipped.
She was standing somewhere else—not in the crater. Not in this moment. A memory? A vision? She wasn't sure.
She saw sunlight. A field. Wind rustling tall, golden grass. A pair of hands—her hands—reaching forward, glass blossoms blooming from the air like petals falling in reverse. It was beautiful, calm.
But then—snap.
