"Thirty seconds until peak resonance," Sam said. "Everyone ready?—"
A crash and muffled yelp came from behind them. Sam whirled to see Mayor Grimble sprawled face-first in the underbrush, his now-miniaturized hat askew, leaves tangled in his hair.
"Municipal oversight requires... close observation," he wheezed, spitting out dirt. "Carry on, professionals. I'm merely documenting for the town archives."
One of the shadow creatures turned toward the noise, its featureless head tilting.
"Don't move," Sam hissed.
The Mayor froze mid-attempt to stand, balanced precariously on one knee and one hand. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as the shadow creature drifted closer.
Elder Thornberry, still humming, casually tossed a glowing sandwich past the Mayor. It sailed through the air, landing with a splat several yards away. The shadow creature immediately changed direction, moving toward the unexpected sound.
"Fifteen seconds," Delilah whispered, squeezing Sam's arm.
Below, Morgana raised a ceremonial dagger, its blade gleaming with unnatural light. "With this final offering, I complete the circuit! The Collector's Symphony begins!"
Behind her, the shadowy presence expanded, its edges bleeding into the darkness surrounding the clearing. For just a moment, it seemed to wear Morgana's face like a mask before shifting into something older, more ancient.
Sam raised his hand, preparing to give the signal.
"Now," he growled.
The clearing erupted into chaos. Sam lunged forward, signaling the attack teams with a sharp whistle that pierced through the night air. Zelda's counterspell shot skyward in a burst of golden light, colliding with the witch's protective barrier. Mac and his shifters emerged from the tree line, partially transformed with glowing eyes and extended claws.
But before any of them could reach Morgana, Mayor Grimble stumbled into the clearing, brandishing an official-looking scroll that unfurled dramatically to twice his height.
"Halt right there, magical miscreant!" he bellowed, his miniaturized hat somehow projecting his voice like a megaphone. "This is an official municipal intervention!"
Sam skidded to a stop, his momentum nearly sending him face-first into a shadow creature. "What the hell is he doing?"
Morgana paused mid-incantation, dagger suspended in the air, her expression cycling between rage and bewilderment.
"By the power vested in me by Municipal Code 7.3, Paragraph 2," Mayor Grimble continued, adjusting his glasses with one finger, "you are hereby ordered to discontinue all apocalyptic activities within town limits!"
Elder Thornberry materialized beside the Mayor, snatching the scroll and adding his own flourish. "Pursuant to the mystical bylaws of cosmic jurisprudence and celestial zoning regulations!"
"That's not in the town charter," the Mayor hissed, trying to reclaim his scroll.
"Addendum C, subsection omega, ratified during the lunar eclipse of 1847!" Elder insisted, waving his arms. "Furthermore, the defendant must acknowledge violations of paranormal parking ordinances and the illegal summoning of eldritch entities without proper permits!"
Morgana's silver hair writhed like agitated snakes. "What nonsense is this?"
"The illegal transformation of private property into gingerbread structures!" Mayor Grimble added, warming to the theme. "A clear violation of our Historical Buildings Preservation Act!"
Sam caught Delilah's eye across the clearing and nodded. The distraction was working. The shadow creatures had turned toward the commotion, their attention diverted from the teams moving into position.
"I don't answer to your pathetic paranormal regulations," Morgana snarled, but her rhythm was broken. The artifacts wobbled in their formation, the beams connecting them flickering.
Behind her, the shadowy presence seemed to pulse with frustration, expanding and contracting like a heartbeat. For a moment, Morgana's face contorted in confusion, her movements stuttering as if receiving contradictory commands.
"Are you also aware," Elder Thornberry continued, now wearing a powdered judge's wig that hadn't been there seconds before, "that unauthorized cosmic disturbances incur a fine of fifty dubloons plus two chickens and a firm handshake delivered on the third Tuesday of any month containing the letter 'Y'?"
"There's no such—" Mayor Grimble started, then shook his head. "Yes! Exactly that!"
Sam seized the opportunity, signaling Mac with a quick hand gesture. They sprinted toward the ritual circle from opposite directions, Vic flanking from the shadows with vampiric speed.
"I will not be interrupted by bureaucratic buffoons!" Morgana screamed, but her concentration was shattered. She glanced over her shoulder as if listening to something, her eyes widening in alarm.
