The moment the orb pulsed, something shifted across the camp. No loud sound. No visible force. Just a change—quiet and smooth—like a thread had been pulled.
The barrier field cracked, not from impact, but from giving up. Like it knew resistance wouldn't matter.
Crystals lining the perimeter split with small, silent fractures. The energy shields flickered out. Every communication spell cut off at the same time, as if someone had unplugged the world.
Runes dimmed and died where they stood, and none of them tried to restart.
Inside the camp, no one said anything at first. No one called out. They were already too late.
The cult was sealed off.
There was no contact, no escape, and no outside eyes.
People began to shift—small movements at first. Shoulders turned. Eyes scanned the horizon. A few lowered into a crouch without knowing why.
Weapons were halfway drawn. Some looked to the sky, some at the dirt, but most didn't even know what they were reacting to.
