The bronze belly of the Tier 8 Star-Iron Cauldron hummed like a mountain-sized hive of angry hornets.
High in the upper clouds, the sealed aperture of the orbital Star-Array glowed a dull, menacing cherry-red.
From within the array’s acoustic broadcast horns, the manic laughter of Ancestor Pyre echoed down across the archipelago.
“A cauldron?” Pyre mocked, his voice distorted by acoustic feedback and madness. “You plugged the divine judgment of Sovereign Solon with a kitchen pot! Do you think a lump of mortal bronze can hold the solar fire of seven celestial corridors?”
The voice of Ancestor Draven joined him, grating like grinding iron. “Our bodies are fused to the primary conduits! We are channeling our Saint Vessel Peak blood directly into the firing core! In ten seconds, your toy will melt into slag!”
Ancestor Vesper’s hoarse voice cut through the wind. “You cannot escape, Master Ash! The heat will burst your cauldron and vaporize this entire ocean!”
On the terrace of Crater Island, the air was dry as an oven.
The stone flagstones radiated heat like a baker’s hearth. Yet within the five-hundred-yard boundary held by Claire, Mina, and Sera, the atmosphere remained cool and tranquil.
