There had been sounds upon the door as their meet had begun, and now in the aftermath, Samyaza noticed their absence as well. Or, replacement. There were voices outside, bare whispers that trickled into the awareness of the throne room to indicate others were awaiting audience. They worked fast, in the home here of the gods. There was not telling how many, or at what strength they had come. Light and Hunt had only left moments ago, easily able to return in the time it had taken she and Gaia to descend the stair and speak...battle. But they were still wounded.
And they were not so glorious as one might expect of gods. Young. Even Gaia. They were all so....... young. She had lived ages upon ages, if life it could be called, and these were supposed to be the gods? She stretched open her maw and swallowed the prized arm for safe keeping. It would not do to underestimate.
Not now.
" Wrap me coils, wrap me sweet, that nothing touch me made of meat. Nothing solid, nothing sane, nothing on this Being plane. “
A haze of twisting distortion came over her, a shell unwholesome. She put her remaining limb to the door and pushed. The shell crackled, the magic of the doors rotted and began to give way while the flawless stone and carving where her spindles met began to sour and curdle.