Don't let him finish it.
Kane!
Cyrus reached for the silver thread again, desperate, ignoring the alarms shrieking around him.
What do you mean? Don't let him finish what?
Kane, answer me!
The connection flickered—once, twice—
Then snapped.
Cyrus's consciousness slammed back into his body with enough force to crack his teeth together. Blood flooded his mouth—dark crimson flecked with embers.
The containment circle flared white-hot around him.
His spirit core convulsed.
"Core integrity at forty-eight percent!" Elias barked. "Terminate the connection!"
Spirit-threads retracted from Kane's pod with mechanical precision.
The conduits dimmed.
Cyrus collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, coughing violently. Dark blood splattered the containment circle, each drop smoking where it touched the sigils.
Flecks of crimson dragonfire scattered across the obsidian floor.
