Caleb's Orichalcum Claws arced toward Alistair with lethal intent. Reacting instinctively, Alistair summoned the fractured shards of his shield, reforming it just in time to meet the attack. The bone-jarring impact sent him skidding backward, boots scraping against the pavement as he barely kept his footing. That unnatural surge of spiritual power had ignited Caleb's body with crackling energy, amplifying his strength beyond human limits.
Alistair's Spiritual Awareness tingled in warning—this explosive power radiating from Caleb wasn't his own. It felt artificial, conjured from nothingness, a mirror image of the distorted spiritual traces he'd reconstructed from Caleb's apartment earlier.
The truth became undeniable: some shadowy mastermind was weaving Caleb's every move like a marionett
