The sound wasn't what Yana had expected, but he grits his teeth and continues to press the tiny orb of destruction against the golden metal's surface. The screaming transforms into the sound of twisting and shearing metal. Which, thankfully, made more sense and thus was easier to ignore as the orb pulled in more and more energy. The green-purple tendrils retreating into the larger construct, but unable to escape the hungry maw of the orb. Yana took a mental step back to think on this situation, since it seemed like this was going to take more time than he thought. The concepts of spell theory he had found in those other rooms had taken him the most amount of time to go through, and he was sure that only a fragment of the information was understood well enough to use. But, he had enough to understand how dependent the system was on it's unique mana type, and thus removing it would cause the construct to fail. Turns out that machines like this need a sample of the mana it's going to use to start the process, and then it can process more out of ambient mana. Yet, something about the initial creation of a mana type requires a living being to create.
He swirls his hands through the flows of rainbow vapor in the air idly as he considers the rest of the information about this place. It had been a research fort made by the Faerun thousands of years ago to study the concept of "Domination Mana" since it was part of a larger project involving a similar concept. Most of what he found was notes about the spreading Empire of beastkin from a place called Maphario. The sounds start to dull as the rest of the room darkened, clearly showing the last remains of the energy pulling back to the core. Yana prepares himself just in case the construct had some kind of self-destruct or final defense in the case of power loss. It was sitting on top of a Mana Well so it should have a huge amount of power available to it. Though Yana was beginning to think it just massively increased regeneration of resources rather than providing a large pool of it. Yet, it was always better to be safe, but before he could return to his thoughts.
The light faded away and cracks appear everywhere in the room, before a strange black liquid pours out from around the room. It swirls with color and Yana finds himself unable to look away from it. Something about the stuff pulls him to the floor to press his body into it, it flows around him, like an embrace from beyond time. It wasn't some kind of manipulation or mana that did this, it was an instinct older then him or his Mother. It was a primal urge to drink it, drink it and grow into something more, a sliver of knowledge settled in his head and he knew. This was blood, a black blood holding six colors all blended together, and it was beautiful. His very body began to absorb it and the earth trembled.
----
Lady Mirabella heard a click and looked down at her chest to see a strange device she had never seen before hanging there. It looked like a small clock, like some of the noble men carried around to look like they were busy, but the various symbols on it marked it as something more eldritch. The other odd fact was that it wasn't moving, though she had a suspicion that the tick sound she had hear was the one hand moving from the number 97 to 90. She blinked in confusion, why did she remember the number it had been on before, but not where she got it. Memories felt painful around the topic, like nails across a chalkboard, and she stood up from her desk only to feel herself tumble to the floor. Then she heard other sounds around herself, the sounds of people falling to the ground in heavy armor and dropping trays. Panic hit her in waves and she realized that it wasn't her own at first. Something in her head felt like it was being pulled out and screaming all the while.
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She could feel the lines of blood trickling from her eyes as she held onto her consciousness through the pain and obvious magical attack. Sensations like pulling the weeds in her garden were felt in her head as a green-purple vapor poured from her open mouth, and she felt angry at what that could have been. Was it some kind of slow poison and now it was killing everyone in the keep? She didn't know and the anger made her cry though she couldn't tell if it was tears or more blood. Then, the earth shook and all she was left with was a dull pain that seemed to be everywhere and everything. Then she gave up and passed out.
"Well, that wasn't expected, but far more trouble." A shadow made of angles mused as it walked around Mirabella's body. Time just became far more valuable, and a few pieces on this board had moved to fast to have the context for what they gained. It wasn't the end, but it would certainly be far more trouble. At least the Daughter was far enough away and still growing slowly enough to make it stay on schedule. Provided the other pieces didn't accelerate things.
----
Harold collapsed into his protected camp only moments before the ants found him, and the wards flared to life in a sickly green-purple color while he collapsed. He was the only survivor of all this madness, and he didn't know what to do. Part of him just wanted to run back to the dungeon and throw himself at those monsters until they killed him. At least then he would feel like he deserved to be saved until the end. The others were meant to protect him so he could protect them. He wasn't meant to survive when everyone around him died just for him to escape. A fist slammed heavily against the dry earth, again and again as he vented his exhausted body in frustration at the world. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was suppose to be strong enough to save people.
"A healer is weak, but strong enough to help other." A voice from out of memory said to him. Harold sat up seeing nothing around him, but feeling an odd pressure, and the wards were still glowing. Yet, now he realized that their light was off, it was supposed to be a blue-green not this green-purple color. Warily, he approached one of the ward stones and touched it with a finger. Immediately regretting it as it was as hot as coals. Waving his hand in the chill air, he tried to cast [Renew] only for him to feel a series of popping sensations and a deep, screaming pain. He woke up second later on the ground with blood pooling around him, and a feeling of incredible weakness. Like something precious had been taken from him, and he tried to pull up his status screen. Nothing happened. Not a sound or series of words, just nothing. With dawning horror he looked up to see white cracks within the black swirling sky of the tear. The black sky filled with six colors of swirling light.
He didn't even scream in pain as the ant slammed it's mandibles around his legs to drag him away. The ward stones now black, burned chunks of rock. Harold knew with a certainty in his soul, that the System had cast him away. He didn't know if it was for cowardice, but it was gone and he was left to be eaten by the monsters of the dungeon. The last thing he did as he was eaten, was crush the message stone he had been given.