The Abyssal Weaver did not wait for his patrons to finish screaming. He slammed his jagged claws onto the balcony railing, triggering the Market's emergency lockdown protocols. Massive steel blast doors crashed down over the pavilion's archways, sealing the Vanguard crew inside the neon-lit death trap.
The thumping electronic music abruptly cut out, replaced by the sickening sound of tearing flesh as spatial rifts ripped open across the casino floor. Dozens of Abyssal Hounds poured out of the void. The demonic beasts were the size of hover-cars, boasting four glowing eyes and jaws lined with jagged, obsidian glass.
"Tear the holy magic from his veins!" the Weaver shrieked, pointing his sacrificial blade directly at Xavier.
The hounds lunged forward in a unified wave of gnashing teeth and violet rot.
