The sensation defied description.
If Ling had to describe it, it was as though someone had scooped out his brain, tossed it into a sea of consciousness wracked by a tsunami, and demanded that he count every grain of sand in the waves before he drowned. The instant the first "knock" sounded, the Beacon stopped merely burning hot. A silver-blue sun exploded directly inside his soul. Data-cold, chaotic energy parameters so vast they made him nauseous-surged into every inch of his perception like floodwater bursting through a dam.
He gave a muffled groan. Heat rushed through his nose, and the taste of rust spread through his mouth. A piercing whine filled his ears, while ominous black spots flickered at the edges of his vision. Hold steady. I have to hold steady... He desperately drew his consciousness inward, like a frightened river clam guarding its tiny core of clarity, letting the storm outside tear at his boundaries.
It came.
It was neither sound nor image, but a far more direct "declaration of existence." Cold and boundless, it carried an indifference toward ants and a hint of... displeasure at being disturbed? It was as though the entire sky had collapsed, pressing down on everyone's soul. The runes around the barrier's perimeter flared to their utmost brilliance, crackling under the unbearable strain.
"Record the first set of data!" Tobirama's voice pierced the suffocating pressure like an icicle, precise and utterly unwavering. "Prepare the second knock! Increase intensity by fifteen percent!"
Again?! Ling almost screamed. His consciousness already felt like a rag wrung to its limit; one more twist would tear it apart. But all he could do was grit his teeth as the Beacon was forcibly activated again. A sharper, stronger pulse ripped through his consciousness and raced toward the second set of