"Too many doors," said Sloan.

"Fear not, love. Remember in the real world, this City Hall is little more than a dumpy little thing. These added doors are but illusions."

Delaney stepped in front, her heels clicking against the opulent reflective floor. She held aloft her staff and summoned thousands of bubbles in a spiral pattern before her. With a trenchant wave, she zipped the bubbles down the hall. Some broke from the main pack to slam into each door, splattering in eruptions of blood.

At first, Sloan didn't understand. But as the blood drizzled down the doors, the doors drizzled too, washing away like crayon. After a few moments, all but three had resolved into dew.

(Chapter 5)