Demons swarmed us after we left Korra and Gayron on their own. Fable moved too quickly, trampling through scions and weaker demons, while Verity flitted through the starlight, slaughtering anything that got close.
And then the demons ended, refusing to chase us past a small ridge. The air grew dark and heavy, rife with black rifts in the realm wall. Breathing became difficult, and Verity's light dimmed as my aura constricted.
"What is this?" Verity asked, returning to us.
I shook my head. I'd seen this before in Demon Gates when heroes exerted too much power, but this was Enusia. Comparing the realm walls to a demon gate was placing paper before stone. What kind of terrible power could separate the fabric of fate, and allow oblivion to bleed into a mortal realm?
We stopped at the edge of a basin. It sloped gradually down for almost a mile before rising again, forming a perfect bowl. The damage to fate was extensive here, and only worsened as it neared the bottom.
