The streets of Beijing were bustling with energy - people everywhere, a constant state of movement, to and fro between countless points of reference. A tall man with an aquiline nose stood above them, obsidian eyes watching as he called out into the darkness, willing the forces he required.
A slight tremor beneath the earth.
He called out louder, the psychic waves pounding into the ether, dragging it towards him. He had sensed the failure of Blondstone - it would seem that if one wanted to have something done well, he would once again have to do it himself. He raised his arms and began the ritual, ensuring that his own additions were placed where needed.
The tremor became a shaking of the ground - people began to stumble over themselves on the streets, and there was a slight dust cloud from the buildings that had been shaken.
Then a pause.
A golden silence.
A myriad of thick black tendrils burst from the ground, tearing down buildings and shattering windows. The collective screams of the people around only served to speed the process, as men, women and children were crushed by the vast tentacles that now swamped the streets of Bejing.
This was going to get their attention.