The three dragons fell silent.
The moment Ren's blade had made contact with Jack's chest, the transformation had been instantaneous.
A sudden, violent collapse of whatever had been building inside him.
The black lightning had died, the patterns in his eyes had shattered, and the absolute hunger that had been radiating from him in palpable waves had evaporated.
"Something is wrong with him," Nexia said, her voice carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "He can't tell friend from foe."
Malacia's copper scales rippled, sending small waves of heat across the stone. "We should have intervened. We should have..."
"We have no wings," Skatha cut in, her bluntness cutting through sentiment like a wedge through wood. "We have no escape or flight. We are creatures of the ground now, and the Soul Warden fights the Sovereign above us while something we cannot perceive whispers into the darkness inside his skull."
