Mycelle waved her hand again.
SHIIING!
The dark visualizations of the Corpse Hierophant and the history of the Age of Collapse shattered into motes of light. Fragments of condensed authority dispersed like fireflies caught in sudden wind, their glow fading as they returned to formless energy.
The floating thrones surged forward. They accelerated through the verdant clouds with speed that blurred reality, their passage creating ripples in the concentrated Living Existential Authority surrounding them.
They breached a barrier of concentrated energy.
The sensation was like passing through a waterfall of pure existence. Pressure pressed against Achilles's consciousness from all directions simultaneously…not hostile but transformative, stripping away superficial layers to examine what lay beneath. When the disorientation faded, he found himself in a space that radiated sanctity far exceeding the garden they'd just left.
