Shadows bled from the floor like spilled ink, writhing and stretching under Valeria's will. Her talent bent the darkness itself, shaping it as if it were a living beast, changing its form, hardening it until the air itself seemed weighed down by the pressure. The cultists could feel it.
Weapons flashed into the hands of the demon worshippers as Henry, their leader, raised his voice above the unnatural whisper of moving shadows.
"Do not falter! It is only one heretic against us, the true followers of the true Lord! We won't fail, no, we will succeed! This heretic will be used as a sacrifice to our Lord!"
The chamber rumbled with shouted affirmations.
"Yes! Our Lord will not let us fail!"
"This heretic dares desecrate our Lord's sanctuary, blasphemy!"
Their morale swelled, until the floor beneath Henry ruptured.
