Quentin’s breath hitched.

The gray light was nothing like mana. It did not blaze. It did not hum.

It devoured.

A faint tremor passed through the runes etched into the walls, reacting to a force they did not recognize.

“You don’t understand,” Quentin rasped, voice fraying at the edges. “You’re digging into something you cannot survive.”

Jared stopped an inch from his brow.

The chaotic glow cast warped shadows across Quentin’s face, hollowing his cheeks, deepening the terror in his eyes.