"SPECTRA! NO!"
Astensia yelled urgently. She quickly transformed her Blessed Blade, melting and stretching it until she no longer held a sword but a long, gleaming chain.
She hurled it.
The Blessed Chain shot across the chamber like a striking serpent, uncoiling through the smoke-filled air.
Spectra was already at the screen, her hand plunged wrist-deep into the rippling black surface, the Gloomfire around her fingers hissing against the magical membrane. The watery portal rippled violently around her intrusion, red light and black water swirling together.
The chain wrapped around her waist with a sound like a lock clicking shut.
Astensia planted her feet and pulled.
Spectra's body jerked backward, her hand tearing free of the screen with a wet, ripping sound. Droplets of black ichor scattered across the floor, almost burning a hole through where they fell.
