Within the disharmonies I seemed to sense a fettered force striving for freedom; energy battling against itself.
Greater grew the swarms of the tentacles winding about us like slender strands of glass, covering our faces, making breathing more and more difficult.

There was a coil of them around my throat and tightening--tightening.
I heard Drake gasping, laboring for breath.

I could not turn my head toward him, could not speak.

Was this then to be our end?
The strangling clutch relaxed, the mass of the tentacles lessened.

I was conscious of a surge of anger through the cruciform Thing that held us.
Its sullen fires blazed.