The peace of the sovereigns, however, was an error the universe could not tolerate.
CRACK.
The sound was not a small, isolated snap this time; it was a thunderous, sky-rending roar that caused every single suspended glass pane in the Mirror Realm to vibrate with a high-frequency scream. The silver dust on the obsidian floor danced erratically, leaping into the air like iron filings drawn toward an invisible magnet.
Lucien's single eye snapped open. The internal amethyst rings inside his remaining emerald orbit began spinning in a frantic, counter-clockwise frenzy as he lunged to his feet, his long frame instantly rigid. The black silk covering his empty right socket was soaked through with a fresh, hot burst of violent purple ichor as the spatial coordinates of the realm began to warp and twist.
