White hair. Black and red clothing. A posture that communicated absolute certainty despite the thousand-fold weight of force descending toward him.
All five dragons in the flight instantly locked every sensory array onto the human.
The younger scouts' minds went absolutely still. A silence deeper than the void around them, a cessation of thought that came only when consciousness confronted something that transcended categorization.
The human was bracing his footing. His arms were steady. His entire frame was beginning to gather an immense, dense well of power that made the observers' supernatural senses scream with the pressure of what was assembling.
A sudden, jarring drop in the ambient atmospheric pressure cascaded upward from the borderlands. Even from the edge of space, even from miles above the world, Caligo felt it. A strange, reality-overwriting law descending into the dirt like a massive, invisible anchor.
The Soul Warden's effect activated.
