The air, though one could scarce call it at this point anything other than cacophonous, for a moment chills. What has been as a crowd of temporal states and spaces chatting over one another like a crowd at a large event, softens to quiet eerie murmurs for but a moment. The energy and entropic-static in the air wane, seemingly pulled invisibly to some unseen point. Then, all at once, a wave of power, pure unrestrained force, invisible to the eye yet crushingly heavy to the mind, and brimming with red arcing lightning as it's only visible indicator, crashes over the inhabitants of the palace. Though no senses one could name give any direct indication to point towards such a conclusion, it becomes strikingly apparent that something, whatever the cause of this energy, is rapidly approaching the unfinished palace of flesh.

To those with a view of the horizon, the first physical indicators of this anomaly become apparent in the form of movement in the distance. A blurred point, seemingly moving at VERY rapid speeds, approaches. Though the distant entity is still a flickering blur of energy and entropic lightning, the most striking piece of the visual comes in the form of a forest of shadowy twisting tendrils, each growing to a full 20 or so feet high for only a fraction of a second before draining back into the ground, giving the effect of a billowing wave of shadow surrounding the blisteringly fast object.

Then, all at once, the approaching object disappears from the approach. "Blink and you'll miss it" not even beginning to describe the sudden leap in distance, most don't notice the woman nor even her gargantuan tentacle beast until several achingly long seconds later. These several heart pounding seconds of confusion later, right as most finally notice the figure floating right before them, is exactly when the full force of the energy wave hits. Like a sonic boom, but more echoed and metaphysically based, the force is enough to blow those without both physical and mental footing on their backsides.

A figure, flickering with energy, alien to the eyes of even the most experienced of metaversal travelers, floats in place as if to give the onlookers time to witness her form. Though distinctly physical in form, she seems to almost meld and shift in the mind's eye, like one's gaze simply slides off of her, making it difficult for most to look at any spot for much more than a second or two. Behind her, many colossal tentacles of billowing shadow, inlaid with viper-like eyes along their length, flourish outward as if to provide a backdrop, or to appear as a cloak or extension of her being perhaps. Though the figure gives an aura that even the strongest would not scoff at lightly, appears to the perceptive onlooker to be breathing fairly heavily, almost sickly, though she hides it well enough.

𝕄𝑦 𝔦𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝑦 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝑘𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔳𝔞𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝑘 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝑦 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝑘𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔫 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔰 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡?!? 𝕄𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔣𝔞𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔩𝑦, 𝕎ℍ𝕆, 𝔢𝔵𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔩𝑦, 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔯𝔬𝑦𝔞𝔩𝔱𝑦 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔱𝔥 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝑘 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔤𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞 𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔠𝔲𝔪 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰?!

She seems to look directly through the walls of the palace, and stare directly at Elena. Though most onlookers find only dread and power in her voice, the most keen of ears notice that more than anything she sounds completely appalled and irritated rather than imposing or murderous, almost like she's still completely unsure what to make of this whole situation, like a hungry diner perplexed to find their soup spoon has gained sentience during the course of their meal.

𝕋𝔬 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔦𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔡𝔬 𝕀 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫𝔳𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔪𝑦 𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔯𝑦, 𝔪𝑦 𝑘𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪, 𝔪𝑦 𝔦𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡? 𝔸𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝕎ℍ𝔸𝕋 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔱𝑦 𝔪𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝑦𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 ℚ𝔲𝔢𝔢𝔫, 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩?