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The purity before him. The brilliance. The wonder. It took him all the way back. Hundreds of years. To the few, fleeting instances of curious innocence from his childhood.

That's what this felt like to him. Curiosity incarnate. A glimpse into a Higher Realm, perhaps.

It was what he lived for.

The flow was truly perfect now. He went over it slowly, taking his time as he walked the full length of the bowl, observing every inch of the containment field in order to be certain.

The fiery glow needed to be just right. Not for any calculational reason. He simply needed it to be. It was a matter of achieving perfection. So much had just been risked, and so much might now be gained. Rare moments like these needed to be savored to the maximal extent. It would likely be quite some time before he had a good reason to push the Pit so hard.

There. A coruscating red-orange glow with just a hint gold in the middle of each flaming stream. They were not unlike ribbons, tied into a great sphere, shining and otherworldly in their luster.

Almost done, now. A thought which saddened him. But he knew he should not linger too much more. The Pit could handle the load just fine, but it would grow antsy with him if he stopped working.

As much as it had in common with him, in this way it differed immensely. It cared not for its own magnificence. It wanted only to make progress.

Morgunov's normally silver gaze was now burning with red and gold as his eyes fell upon Asad and Qorvass. They seemed to no longer be struggling. If they'd fallen unconscious, then that was a shame. The perfected containment field would actually be neutralizing any pain now. Even the imminent removal of the little Lion's tattoos would not hurt. Instead, it would feel akin to a simple sensation of peeling. And perhaps even be oddly satisfying, too.

Theoretically, anyway.

Morgunov raised his hand and set to work. From the top of the containment field, one stream grew downward, snaking a red-gold path toward Asad Najir.

When it made contact with his skin, the glow magnified for a moment into a brilliant flash, then engulfed the man's body entirely.

The tattoos resisted. They, too, were of a golden hue, though darker and more intense.

Morgunov had of course seen this before and been expecting it. Those buggers were stubborn, to be sure, and were no doubt intending to block his progress yet again.

But this time was different.