Six circles. Seven circles. That was his limit. Oz's focus was like stone as he extended a hand to his side. With his palm downward, he dragged his hand up. A set of glyphs spun in place where a floor would have been if Oz had been standing on solid ground. From it raised his rod of force. He drew it back in his hand and stared down at the coming wave of darkness. No turning back now. This would work or he would be facing some of the worst burns in history. The end of the rod phased into a speartip. He gritted his teeth as he poured more of his ki into it, wound back and threw it through the gates.
	Each gate chimed as the spear glided through and each in turn sped the spear up until, "BOOM!" It broke the sound barrier. It rippled through the air and even threw Oz off balance as it sailed toward Geode.