[Phase Two: Deadbolt Barrage – Initiated]
The cathedral pulsed.
It was subtle at first—like the whole place inhaled. The air grew tight, brittle with static. Then the Lich moved—its skeletal fingers clutched the staff with reverence, raising it skyward as veins of molten mana surged beneath the cracked marble like magma seeking release.
And release it did.
KRA-KOOM!
A volley of midnight-black bolts erupted from the Lich's staff like a thunderstorm made of shadow. Dozens, maybe hundreds of bolts crashed toward us, hissing through the air with a sound like screaming ash.
"Noel, incoming!"
I dove to the side, letting the first volley crash behind me in a burst of shattered floor and smoke. Debris rained from the vaulted ceiling.
Noel didn't dodge. Instead, he ran forward straight into the fray.
I opened my mouth to yell—then stopped.
Because lightning cracked.
