It's changing now, screaming and splitting, rearranging itself with contortions beyond reason. It's pulling the room down. It's so fast, it's so—

Mobius charges. A qunari has appeared from nothing and the nod has evaporated. "Abby," they say, in unison, and then Viktor shrinks against the shelf behind him. He flinches bodily, seems on the edge of retreat, shoulders turned and watching over his own arm, transfixed—