It swirled with quivering force, dozens of jet streams constantly creating and then annihilating themselves before they could fly out of Zeff’s control. Over and over and over again. The result was a kind of drilling bomb, so fierce that it whipped up a whirlwind as it waited to tear into something.
He didn’t know if he could even contain this thing. And he didn’t have time to worry about it, either. He pressed his soul into it, strengthening it further still.
‘Holy hell, Zeff.’ Axiolis pressed himself into his servant’s soul, and Zeff could feel the pan-forma merge beginning. ‘Let me help before you kill us all, hmm?’
Of the three enhancements that forma afforded him, the heightened connectivity was the most immediately useful. It granted him a clearer picture of what he wanted in his mind and tighter control over the materialized particles. Most importantly, though, it allowed his creations to maintain themselves, once created. And as a result, within seconds of the merge, Zeff’s bomb reshaped itself and stabilized.
Such was the nature of pan-forma. It aided in the maintenance of the body--not just for the wielder, but for that of their work, as well.
And it was fortunate timing, too, because the Marauder was already barreling toward them--a living path of destruction.
Asad acted before Zeff could, having apparently prepared something of his own, because his tattoos were already burning gold, even through his robes. But it was more than that. Everything happened so quickly that Zeff could hardly interpret what he was looking at, but he could’ve sworn that he saw Asad’s tattoos moving, growing out of the man’s body like golden snakes.
Asad took the Marauder’s attack with freshly materialized, crystalline armor. The glass exploded against the impact, and Asad went flying back, straight over the children and into the wall behind them, leaving a vertical crater and a half-dozen fissures in Dunehall’s stone.
But Caster had been made to stop. Or pause, at least. And Zeff saw his opening.