There's more going on here that Mobius doesn't have an understanding of or context for. Because it's the comment about an incursion that seems to really tip the scale.
It's nothing, at first. An absence. And in a place full of magic tingling the air in a way that feels so much like home in the Circle, it's an alarming sensation. It isn't that the magic itself has stopped, but it's also like taking a deep breath, the crack of tension before a fight, the water receding back only for a much larger wave to gather. Neither Wong nor the novice move, and Mobius idly wonders if they perhaps aren't even breathing.
In more modern terms, it's almost like buffering. Whatever spirits these are, if they are, then they simply don't have an adequate answer for the posed question, and they're just getting pissed now.
And then, too, he feels it before he sees it, and he grabs Strange's strangely mobile and sentient-ish(?) cloak and pulls back with a quick "sorry" to the fabric.
Because the floor under their feet starts to open up like a great gaping maw, edges of the boards like teeth. The novice's hands move in a kind of flurry that a mere novice shouldn't be able to yet, and she crosses the gap with easy on magical platforms that appear when needed and vanish when her foot leaves it again.
On an impulse, Mobius chucks the globe. The novice deflects it with ease, and not-Wong catches it in one hand. It starts to disintegrate into sparks.
"Okay, I think we've got an answer!" Not real. Definitely not real! Not their version of real, at any rate.
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It's nothing, at first. An absence. And in a place full of magic tingling the air in a way that feels so much like home in the Circle, it's an alarming sensation. It isn't that the magic itself has stopped, but it's also like taking a deep breath, the crack of tension before a fight, the water receding back only for a much larger wave to gather. Neither Wong nor the novice move, and Mobius idly wonders if they perhaps aren't even breathing.
In more modern terms, it's almost like buffering. Whatever spirits these are, if they are, then they simply don't have an adequate answer for the posed question, and they're just getting pissed now.
And then, too, he feels it before he sees it, and he grabs Strange's strangely mobile and sentient-ish(?) cloak and pulls back with a quick "sorry" to the fabric.
Because the floor under their feet starts to open up like a great gaping maw, edges of the boards like teeth. The novice's hands move in a kind of flurry that a mere novice shouldn't be able to yet, and she crosses the gap with easy on magical platforms that appear when needed and vanish when her foot leaves it again.
On an impulse, Mobius chucks the globe. The novice deflects it with ease, and not-Wong catches it in one hand. It starts to disintegrate into sparks.
"Okay, I think we've got an answer!" Not real. Definitely not real! Not their version of real, at any rate.