The glowing holographic runes on the ceiling flickered, their golden light dimming into a sickly, freezing blue.
The ambient hum of the array consoles ground to a sluggish halt.
The cup of leftover black-lotus espresso sitting on the jade table instantly, audibly cracked as the liquid inside flash-froze into solid black ice.
A shuddering gasp rippled through the female cultivators.
Elder Su's hand jerked, nearly dropping the thermos of Yang-tonic as a layer of jagged, black frost actively began to climb up the sides of the porcelain.
"What... what is this pressure?!" Senior Sister Mei gasped, her hand violently recoiling from Ji'an's shoulder, her breath pluming into a white cloud in the suddenly freezing air.
Ji'an opened her eyes.
She looked past the shivering women, toward the heavy brass entrance doors.
Standing in the threshold, silhouetted against the dark corridor, was Xie Wangchen.
