The fight wasn't a fight — it was a storm of light and sound.
Threads bent, snapped, and rewove in dizzying arcs as Selene and the coven clashed. Arielle couldn't follow the movements, only the aftermath — buildings flickering like mirages as bonds were cut and rethreaded, shadows warping across the street. The hum in her chest spiked painfully, every pulse of the weave hitting her like a wave.
Selene moved like the threads obeyed them, each flick of their needle unraveling or reinforcing connections in an instant. The coven was faster, but colder, weaving in perfect synchrony.
Arielle stumbled back, clutching her camera like it could anchor her. One thread — pale green, trembling violently — snapped near her foot, and the world around her lurched. For a moment, she felt weightless, untethered, as if she were about to fall out of her own skin.
Selene's hand grabbed her arm, grounding her. "You're resonating. You need to get out of here before—"
The tallest coven figure cut them off with a sharp flick of their rod. The green thread near Arielle twisted into a knot, glowing white-hot. The hum in her chest turned to a shriek.
Then everything went black.