"…They're coming."
.
.
.
The temperature of the room dropped—not colder, but heavier, as if the air itself became aware of who was approaching.
A sharp crack sounded overhead.
Ancient symbols ignited across the open ceiling, forming a massive floating inscription circle. The lines pulsed like veins of light—alive, powerful, sacred.
A hush spread through the hall.
"Is that… a formation circle?" someone whispered. "Why is it so big?"
Everyone recognized what it was—an inscription formation—but no one used formations like this at such a level. Past a certain cultivation boundary, formations lost efficiency and relevance. Yet what stood above them now… was something far beyond common understanding.
Even the seasoned Elders—those who had arrived earlier in grand fashion—found themselves quietly humbled. Whatever technique this was, it surpassed familiarity. It bordered on the impossible.
