La Rocha became crazed. Things had escalated far beyond his control. He had made the terrible mistake of underestimating his opponent.
In a last desperate move, he started taking all sorts of items out. Explosives, volatile potions, poison, everything he had gathered so far in his lifetime. He started throwing these things in bulk at the chaotic anomaly growing exponentially.
However, to his dismay, every single thing was literally absorbed, and not even a scrap was returned. Soon, his own avatar started leaking.
La Rocha froze as he looked down.
Cracks had appeared on his arms, thin, glowing lines where mana was bleeding out of his avatar's form. The edges of his robes fluttered unnaturally, the color draining as if the very concept of his presence was being unmade.
"No… not me… not me!" he howled, voice cracking with panic. He slapped a talisman onto his chest, trying to stabilize the leak. It fizzled. Dissolved. Useless.
