The silence on the gantry was thin and brittle. It was the kind of silence that usually preceded a thunderclap.
Isaac Glacium floated ten feet above the walkway on a disc of crystallized mana. He looked down at Vane with an expression that hovered between amusement and pity. The wall of Pale Eternity he had dropped was a monolith. It completely blocked the path to the beacon, sealing the victory behind three feet of supernatural ice.
"Pick the lock?" Isaac repeated. A faint smile touched his lips. "You are holding a spear, Vane. Not a key. And that door does not have hinges."
Behind Vane, Anastasia Aurelia wiped the last of the grease from her eyes. Her face was flushed with humiliation. A ripple of pure, white light pulsed from her skin. It was the manifestation of her Authority, Blessed by Mana. The filth, the oil, and the soot vanished instantly, scoured away by a passive wave of purification.
