"This isn't a normal abomination-" The shape not changing until now, the red lyrium crystallizing- this is what they were trying to do.

What they'd been testing.

What they'd created and abandoned once they could prove it to be done. What every cut and gouged out organ had been for. What every desecrated corpse and note had referred to and oh- if the shape was not enough, the crystal? Compassion's focus shifting from protect or an urging that they destroy is proof enough.

Gold light gathers in her palms, flares at the butt of her staff as she slams it against the ground, flinging it to Herian. "You have till the count of thirty!"

Around her the world will slow-

It may be enough.

Andraste preserve them, let it be enough.