@Nallore@Blizz@Trainerblue192: You, JackInTheMax, had replaced three corners of the pentagram with Everdark energy, displacing the babies to the Sanctum Santorum. One of the babes has been transfigured into a demon. It is permanent. Its soul burns every brighter, the corruption spreading deeper as the pentagram kicks into overdrive - as the forces of Limbo fall from the sky onto the Earth. You can see other realms now - Asgard, Helheim, the Dark Dimension - all of them bound for collision, all of them fated to come undone.
Most disturbing, though, is the heavy breathing - the breath of old gods forgotten by time, sealed away in another dimension. The Elder Gods are almost free.
"We need to shut this thing off now!" Wong exclaimed. "I'm sorry!" he then added, pain clear in his eyes, as he conjured up blades of pure energy.
And slaughtered the remaining babes.
Their souls were gone, no longer powering the pentagram - it began to flicker and pulse, struggling to maintain its form, feeding off of the Everdark. A hand made of wind and dust closes around you, JackInTheMax - the hand of a god, reaching from its prison to crush you.
On the ground, Ananym let out a primal scream - her body had already healed the wound you'd given her, Madalyne, it was indignity that she screamed for. But her scream was not her own. No, she screamed with your father's voice - she screamed with Ed's voice. She unfurled the wings from her back and shot up into the sky after you, spitting venom, as she continued to use his voice - as she taunted you and your pain.
"You're human now, hmm?" Edus!Ananym taunted. "Pathetic. I'll be doing you a favor when I kill you - I'll use your spine to build my throne."
@KazAlkemi: You abandon the streets of the city, retreating into the relative safety of the Sanctum Santorum. Zelma has temporarily set aside her crossbow, instead rapidly figuring out the basics of infant care - she'd never babysat before, and most things inside the Sanctum Santorum at not child proof. The space is emanating with raw magic, pulsing off of thousands of artifacts contained within. Perhaps you have an idea of what you need - or perhaps it is simply power that calls you.
An ornate box with Greek markings catches your eye - it rests on a pedestal, with a single word carved into the stone below to mark it: Πανδώρα.
Runa the Grey
Location: New York City
Skills: N/A
Spells: N/A
She was, however, impressed that Annika managed to pinpoint the reason why in advance of Klara's explanation. The horn was connected to the ocean to their east, the one that the Midgardians called the Atlantic. However, even with that knowledge, Annika's conclusion was incorrect. Runa did not wish for them to drain the ocean - such a thing was impossible. She wanted them to drain the horn. And as to that end, their efforts had yet to persuade her that she ought to rally to their cause. She expected more.
Not even Klara, as much as Runa was filled with pride as she recited their histories, made the effort that Runa expected. She could hear as the child drank from the horn, salt-water filling her mouth. She did not drain it. How could she? Even Thor had been unable to drain the sea, had failed at this task. If they were to persuade her that this time, this place, that this reality - that all of reality was worth preserving.
"Drain the horn," Runa reiterated. "I will not ask it again."