The disturbance caused by the blood circle resulted in strong ripples of energy that wreaked havoc throughout the underground hall. Multiple ancient columns exploded into sand, and occasional tiles, and blocks of stone rained down, indiscriminately crushing people below. At least we were near the stage, which was close to the edges of the affected area, and most of the danger was limited to dust and small pebbles.

Finding the opportunity when the warriors had trouble standing, multiple people in the other group used their abilities to escape the encirclement. One figure, wrapped up in scraps of cloth, exploded his leg and riding the disgustingly pink shockwave, rushed towards the exit that seemed to be unguarded by now. Some other people followed, not all successfully, as multiple ended up crashing into the walls or even the weapons of the armored warriors. The results were gross enough to make anyone to cringe involuntarily.

The room trembled as its structure was falling apart. Then, a loud grinding sound echoed behind us. Some of the freed captives held their ears, crinkling at the cacophony involving whole sound spectrum from infrasound all the way to the upper limits of the ultrasound. I, personally, found the experience interesting, as it was the first time I could feel such wide range of sounds simultaneously.

Then, with a low, empty whomp, a blue flash came from behind us. Sharp smell of ozone tickled the noses as the dust got blown away. There appeared two men that had not been there before. They were both middle-aged, with almost identical faces and both had salt and pepper goatees.

One was bald though, in sharp contrast with the long and messy hair of the other one. Another distinct difference was the colour of their eyes - the bald one had emerald green eyes, while the hairy one had the sapphire irises of piercing, clear blue. They were wearing authentic-looking Victorian clothing, the hairy one even had a somewhat worn-out top hat. However, instead of the elegant style usually associated with the late 19th century style, these two looked messy and unkempt.

---

Their arrival caused some unrest among our group, but the next moment Mattea’s mentor stood up. He waved at them and pulled out an impressive golden fountain pen from his pocket. Holding the pen, he flicked his hand up, and a golden line formed out of thin interwoven lines of text appeared above him. The new arrivals looked at it for a second, then nodded and walked over to us. It looked as if they moved leisurely, but their figures seemed to flicker and in just a few steps they were next to the mentor.

Mattea had been busy organizing the freed prisoners into a coherent force to resist the attacks of Bull’s Blood.

Now she appeared next to me and commented: “Oh, brothers-motherfuckers. Dunno if we are lucky or not to have them here.”

“Mm?” - I hummed, still hoping to hear an explanation for such a juicy nickname.

“Well, they’re pretty strong and all, famous even. As long as they don’t start brawling again.” - she told.

“And that nickname?”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t take much longer for everyone to hear where that comes from.”

Meanwhile, her mentor gave a slight bow to those two: “Philip, Albert. We are blessed you managed to get through.”

The bald one, apparently Philip, replied with a slightly deeper bow: “Keh, keh. Arthur Wiseman, still in once piece, I see.”

Albert simply raised his tophat and grunted: “I almost left my bottock there. What is going on?”. He stopped, and looked at the blood rising from the circle, and added: “Oh. No wonder.”

Mentor, whose name turned out to be Arthur, shrugged: “Apparently, some unorthodox blood biddance of romano-persian fusion cults. They failed in getting sufficient catalyst diversity in time, and invoked some kind of full-scale self-sacrifice, speeding up the process.”

The two men whistled, expressing their surprise.

Albert, who had been looking around, explained: “No wonder the space is unstable. We used your marker to get here. But to get out… we’ll have to move away. Or we’ll end up like some fresh, juicy burger patties all over the continuum.”

Philip nodded and pointed straight towards the area that belonged to Bull’s Blood: “They got nice wards there. Feels stable enough to get all of you out. Keh, keh. As long as we get through the defences and retain enough limbs to move afterwards. Keh, keh.”

At that moment, the slightly pale-looking elf approached them and waved his ice sword to draw their attention to the last people who were getting killed off on the auction floor.

“Wizards, what about we simply move? I do not know about you, but I can feel something’s planning to come through once the circle is ready. I’d rather be as far away as possible by then.” - he had taken off his helmet, and kept rubbing his temples with his free hand.

“Good suggestion, elf-lord.” - nodded Arthur the mentor.

“Keh, keh. We need a while to synchronize with local space.” - said bald Philip.

“He means, we won’t be much help for now. Good luck with the seals and wards. We’re right behind you’all.” - Albert pulled the rim of his top hat down to cover his eyes.

---

I returned to the SAS team, while Mattea, her mentor, elf, gremlin and a few other leader-figures quickly united the rest of the group. By the way, the thin woman with spider features stuck closer to Aitan now. I had a feeling that it was going to be an interesting thing to observe.

In the confusion, Bull’s Blood had lost the leadership and now nobody bothered with us. Especially since the rapidly escalating energy reaction in the middle of the floor got all the attention.

Our small group, after some magic manipulation, pushed the empty cages to block the path behind us. Then, with some weaker ex-captives relying on mutual support, slowly moved towards the restricted area. As I walked, I felt the pressure rising, with stone slates beneath our feet warping like soft clay.

Me and SAS walked in front, and when we finally crossed the line that formed the blood circle, Elm, Pine and Maple swore loudly. They were joined by the people coming after us. As I understood from the rather colourful idiomatic expressions, it felt like a sudden drop in air pressure, with a considerable amount of hurt to the ears.

Just as we were approaching the area that according to Arthur&Co was magically protected, Aitan who had been walking besides me, blanched and staggered.

“Very, very bad feeling. We need to get OUT!” - he tried to speak calmly, but almost shouted as he reached the latter part.

At the same moment, the huge woman sagged on the floor, while her man used all his effort in a futile attempt to support her. Even the elf stopped and covered his mouth, forcibly suppressing the bad feeling he was experiencing.

The wizards from Akadem turned around, looking towards the middle of the auction floor. There, the blood energy that had risen from the floor, stopped moving. Instead, it formed a tall, thin pole reaching high up towards the ceiling.

Meanwhile, a group of men and women, everyone exhibiting some distinct animal traits, continued pushing forwards.

“Our turn!” - shouted a very small, but considerably muscular woman dressed in paint-marked overalls, with visible striped fur covering her forearms.

“Jawohl!” - replied a pale blond woman, who looked like a Nazi wet dream, except for her yellow eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth. She still wore tattered remains of office outfit with something that used to be a crisp white blouse. The sleeves were torn off, likely used to create the thick wrist wraps she wore now.

Then, together with other three people with animal traits, they simply punched hard against the lines that marked the borders of the warded area. Such action resulted in the low-pitched sound of electricity transformer. One punch did nothing. But as they repeated, the ground shook and then with the sound of breaking strings, they managed to break through.

No colourful flashes or dimming barrier effects, just a strong smell of heated copper wires mixed with charred smell of burning hair. Ignoring light burns on their skin, they simply pushed on. Then, while noisily howling, yapping and roaring, they jumped back to grab the rest of the people, literally dragging everyone forward. That earned them a dirty look from the elf, however. They avoided the wizards and SAS made it over on their own, but that persistence was what saved most of the group.

Philip shook as he looked away from the blood pole and coughed: “Keh-keh, outta time, Wiseman!”

Arthur did not reply, as he was busy pulling out objects from his pockets. He threw a few small balls made of green stone, possibly jade, to Philip and Albert.

They seemed to know what to do, and as soon as they got hold of them, hurled these orbs towards the auction floor. Spinning in the air, the balls seemed to defy the gravity as they refused to fall on the floor. Instead, they formed an equilateral triangle, with each ball occupying a corner. I observed tiny ripples in the air between the balls, similar to the distortions in hot weather. But I could feel no actual energy involved - damn the magic and my inability to sense it.

---

It took just a few moments to happen, and the triangle was formed faster than a second. But if Arthur Wiseman had been any slower, they would have perished. I had no idea about myself, but I was also happy to not have to face head-on the things that followed next.

Just as the triangle took the steady form, it almost folded up like an origami under the intense barrage of the black winds. The blood pole, that had been formed from the spinning blood and energy, had split open like a huge zipper. Slowly, starting from above, the pole broke into two, forming a huge pod-shaped hole in the air.

From within, black winds came out, with even smallest breezes leaving deep scars into the stone floor. Stronger gusts of wind pulverized the remaining pillars and annihilated into nothingness the sand that kept pouring down from above. Each breath of wind shook the space itself and it seemed that the Universe was shuddering on the impact.

With my perception, I could see how energy such as electromagnetic radiation was being annihilated in collisions - something I had thought to be impossible, considering the concept of the indestructibility of energy and all that. I could even see how at the edges of the hole, the fabric of the world was coming apart like the edges of an old, worn-out rag.

Some of Bull’s Blood forces that had been exterminating the other group, stopped and dropped on their knees. However, at least half of them were erased by the gusts of black wind, leaving barely any scraps behind.

As they died, the massive rush of incoming energy reached the limit I could bear. The piece of leather I used to tie my hair tore open with barely audible snap, freeing my hair. My hair rose like a crimson halo around my head, definitely impressive but way too distracting and prone to accidents for my taste. Complaining inside my head about the bad timing, I guided the excess energy into the helmet I still held in my hand. As the helmet turned into the colour of dark burgundy, my hair settled down. Just in time to let me focus on the events unfolding before us.

---

A huge blast of black wind blew out of the hole, shaking the room so hard that most of the people lost their footing. From the inside of the hole, stretched out a black hand. I named it hand, although an appendage would be more correct. It was formed of thin vines or tentacles, endlessly twisted together to give it shape. Everything was black, and not even a sliver of light was reflected from the surface - it was darkest black, absorbing and devouring everything that fell upon it.

“Agrippa’s demons, what’s that?” - I heard Arthur’s astonished muttering.

With a move that seemed to go against the expected joint angle, the limb flexed, bringing forwards the body behind it. Slowly the huge, hulking mass emerged, not entirely quadrupedal, but still too wrong to be bipedal. It seemed like a demented drawing of an animal, done by a crazy artist under the effect of LSD. There were horns, vaguely inspired by bovines, legs, completely randomly attached and shaped, with hooves turning into claws and nails and then back again. And eyes… eyes were everywhere. I could clearly see spherical and compound eyes, and there were many I had trouble properly classifying.

“I do not think this is Taurus they intended to summon.” - I announced to my surroundings.

“It is coming out and I don’t think it cares much about anybody’s intentions.” - commented Albert, while Philip was having another coughing fit.

“Ritualistic interposition.” - slowly said Arthur, while he stared at the shape emerging from the hole. Then he continued: “Something not belonging to the worlds, forms it’s own will and worms into the ideas of lifeforms, using them as a springboard to get through the Veil.”

That seemed to scare the victorian-styled duo, and Philip even stopped coughing to ask: “Wait, Wiseman, you are talking about those Outer Gods that Howard fella wrote and talked about?”

Arthur did not seem too happy to nod slightly: “People still think he was just a writer, but College there believes he was a Receiver who managed to overcome the brainwashing.”

I also felt something familiar from that grotesque bull figure that was slowly wriggling out of the hole. It actually gave off the feeling similar to the tentacles formed from the nothingness that I had seen outside of the worlds. The ones that even now were slowly squeezing the world spheres dry, shattering the remnants into glittering shards.