The head operator's fingers flew across the holographic interface, frantically clearing red warning prompts.
Isiah loomed over him, his cold eyes dissecting every incantation, glyph, and energy flow reading off the console.
He wasn't going to repeat the disaster from Emperium. Back then, he had trusted the mages to configure the dimensional level-up sequence, only for them to secretly mess with their corel, costing them years of their youth and rapidly aging their bodies.
This time, Isiah was controlling the spellcraft himself.
"Step back," Isiah commanded, his voice cutting like a blade. A thin whip of dark energy lashed out, yanked the operator away, and pinned him against the far wall.
Isiah thrust both hands into the floating holographic matrix, combining his own dark spellcraft with the facility's divine-tier incantations.
