:''"Let's obey, Melkiar… we have no choice,"'' whispered Xynala.

And the sky exploded. A deafening explosion accompanied by a wave of heat swept through the whole of Fyre. Belenor, who almost lost his balance again, held on tightly to Melkiar's arm. In the sky over Fyre, the monumental Karavan flying ship, now smoking and aflame, was slowly falling towards the Southern Gates. Victorious, the thousands of surviving kitins did not rest for a second and swooped down on the palace. Immediately, the Karavan machines levitating over the square spread out in a circle facing the bark wall that bounded it, and dropped thick pylons that planted themselves firmly in the ground. Once the maneuver was complete, the strange devices began to whistle loudly, and a few seconds later, a gigantic diaphanous, bluish dome materialized around and above the square. The crescent-shaped vehicle next to Varran and Xynala took off immediately, and the agents surrounding them sped off in different directions, as did each of those around the Palace. The supernatural voice of the agent dressed in white thundered again.