The Spire could not hear Azizos. There was no conscious dwelling within it, it was not alive; not in the sense that Azizos was. It was simply... magic. Magic that did not sway one way or the other, magic that was not gripped by order or consumed by chaos. It simply was. Sometimes, there was a connection to something else, to something far beyond the reaches of the nest, but otherwise, it was only a well. A source and nothing more.

When the magic was offered, the Spire reacted: Azizos had a small amount to give, but the Spire took more. Brought to his knees, the hybrid would feel the very essence of himself sucked out of his gem, his flesh sizzling with sparks of magic; the feeling would knock the wind out of him, draining him nearly dry of all of his own magic reserves.

There was a loud and sharp sound, the cleaving of crystal, and then one of the floating chunks of Spire dislodged from the air and fell with a heavy and loud crash, a cloud of dust bursting from the impact site. But it did not shatter. Instead, rising from the debris and out of the crater, a solid crystal golem shook itself awake.

It was nearly as tall as the Spire itself, around twenty-five feet tall.

And it was hungry for more magicka.

The large golem moved with the sharp, striking sounds of shearing crystal, arms breaking free from its body, legs shattering down to support it—and it lurched once, and then twice, moving unnaturally and broken toward the other. As Azizos called out to it, it did not hear. It could not hear. But it was not long until its body tripped, falling against the large Spire with the ear-piercing sound of crystal striking crystal.

There was a large flash and a reverberating crrrack-BOOM that exploded through the entirety of Polaris, the magic dense in the air squeezing and popping; it would feel suffocating to those within, as if all of the air was forcefully pushed from their lungs. The Spire itself sparked and sizzled, with the golem shattering into millions of pieces like fragile glass.

And Azizos, who had already experienced a large amount of magicka snatched from his body, would feel it the most. He was closest, too. As the Spire absorbed the magicka from the golem, those nearby would feel their magicka drained as well—including Azizos, who would feel the entirety of his reserves sucked dry, disappearing into the air to be collected by the giant, looming reservoir that was the Spire.

New crystals formed with sharp clinks in the air around the Spire as the rest of the golem was reabsorbed, and Azizos would be left fatigued and empty of his magicka. He'd need to rest for the night and let his magicka return, but the longer he stayed in Polaris, the more at risk he was to being reabsorbed as well, just like the golem had been. The tunnel seemed to stretch out of reach, the room growing, yawning, spinning... if he could reach the exit, he'd be alright. If he could reach the exit...