***
{Outside The Projection}
Again, again, again—the hall was stunned.
Always, they'd always be stunned.
Never would they not be stunned.
They had seen unfathomable monsters, curses, and entire Layers fall beneath Malik's feet, but it seemed that finally...
Malik had met his match.
Whatever this was, it had them struggling to breathe.
What he did wasn't win but survive.
He barely avoided temptation.
And, oh, was it not the cheap kind.
This thing—this Fallen Angel—it tried to claim Malik.
Tried to embrace him.
And even through the projection, it tried to do the same to them, devouring their Wills, warping them; perhaps it even saw them like the True Sultan did earlier.
The weaker ones in the crowd, in the entire world, their mortals, felt it first.
That whisper in their skulls.
That call.
Become bone.
Become mine.
Even now, after the projection had moved on, there were still people staring at nothing, sweating like they'd seen their own soul rot.
