You can feel it. Even the least sensitive among you, the ice castle is a deep festering pit of evil. It crawls under your skin, an itching madness, urging you to give up your hopes, your dreams, to succumb to the id, your inner self that only wants, takes.
This isn't a compulsion, only the shadow of an urge.
You see a way in, a hole in the wall, jagged. Here, the wind ceases like the eye of a storm. A cold, harsh sun shines down upon you, but the light only draws the warmth out of your flesh.
Lastly, Kyron knows the rift lies here, the ice castle sighting right on it, but within, it vibrates manicly, dangerously. He feels like the instability could rupture, and who would know then. Would it collapse? Explode? Expand? Moment by moment his guess changes.