Chrysalis

The stone shatters down the middle, shards flying in all directions, then slowing, freezing, and reversing, as they are pulled back to the force of the spell which had sent them flying in the first place.

Now exposed to the air, the bomb makes itself known in the familiar, terrifying way.

I can’t even describe it as a howl, or a shriek. It goes well beyond anything I have experienced before. The air around me is simply ripped away, and the next instant, I’m caught within a hurricane.

The ship creaks and groans worryingly as the winds rip and tear at every loose scrap of cloth, rope and sail. Barrels are whipped straight off the deck, smashing into the railings and tipping right over the top.

The water around us is even worse. Even before the bomb expanded, it was frothing and thrashing, but now it’s straight up storming. Waves rise seemingly at random, smashing into each other. Before I can twitch, the fleet finds itself rising and falling on colossal waves that threaten to capsize the ships at any moment.

Thankfully, more and more of the bubble shields are popping into place as the brathian sailors work their magic, so even if they flip over, the water won’t rush in and drown the ants. Well, so long as the ships don’t rip apart, which is a serious concern!

The unspeakably large chunk of rock is no longer my concern, as above my head, it is being devoured by what I have made.

I’m almost glad I can’t hear anything over the wind, because the noise up there must be… dreadful.

to even look at it. A black sphere of indeterminate size, the light around it bends and warps in dizzying ways, replicated in each of my thousands of lenses until the image becomes headache-inducing. What is easy

into each other, tumbling through the air, then falling into a spiral around the void. Like soap suds circling the drain, they whip around and around, torn and shredded over and over again until they vanish into the dark

to consume the entirety of what the golgari attempted to

don’t let

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towers of water begin to rise as the winds shriek around them. Twisters of dizzying size and power begin to form, sucking the water up, rising higher and higher toward the source

are locked into place under the railings, and I am struggling to hold on. The main issue I have is that the railing is likely to break well before my legs do, and even then, the boat is going to get

things

bolster the ships, and some have even begun creating and moulding huge anchors of stone, extending them down beneath the ships, seeking to

my exhausted brains limping along, but gaining speed as the fatigue is gradually

a million ants within range, this would be so much easier, but with only

all the chaos that surrounds me, I’m still aware enough to notice when the mountain of Greystone itself begins to take damage. No matter how densely they packed that stone together, there’s no way it can resist the kind of forces that are

far away from the roof of the stratum. If it started ripping into the base of the third, goodness knows

ship. Not a fan of this development. In an instant, my body starts to rise on one side as my legs wiggle free in the air. Thinking quickly, I bend my legs on

going anywhere until this railing goes with me! Which