The further up he climbed, he saw things that would make any Archon or any Preceptor, no matter how strong, go weak in their knees.
Leviathans. Horrors from the deep. Things that had no names because nothing that saw them lived to name them.
They swam through the frozen wave, moving in their own pockets of trapped time. Massive serpentine things covered in scales the size of a large ship. They wound through the frozen water in pursuit of the many climbing vessels, as if seeking to bury them forever.
Their jaws were stretched wide open, enough to swallow a city block, with rows of teeth like building-sized blades gleaming under the storm's lightning.
But Finn moved past all of them without batting an eye.
