Makun stared at the golden sphere in the Golden Mask's hand, his mind racing.
The same principle, he thought. But not the same function.
The crimson ball the grey priest had clutched, the one he had activated in his final moments, had not created anything. It had destroyed. Severed the connection between the chalet and the tower, collapsed the gate that led to the Veilhub, sealed the path so thoroughly that even MIO's retrieval team would find nothing but dead ends.
He used it to block pursuit, Makun realised. To cut off access. To ensure that whatever he was protecting remained hidden.
This golden sphere was the opposite.
Where the crimson ball had severed, this one linked. Where the priest's device had collapsed a gate, this one held one open. The rivers of Ashe pouring from the dome above were not being used to destroy, they were being channelled to maintain, to stabilise, to anchor the passage between the Chapel of St. Elmo and Ashenvale.
