SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES... Crazed Termy has trapped himself in a cocoon of crystal... What do you do?

A hush falls low, the air stands still,
The world bends sharp to a wicked will.
In a cocoon of silk and spite,
The Creator sleeps, but not from light.

They’re drawing power, slow and deep,
From broken minds and souls that weep.
Their heart beats black, their dreams run red,
And when they wake, all hope is dead.

The Cat keeps watch with a toothy grin,
A loyal beast of bone and sin.
Their eyes like knives, their claws like chains,
They dance in joy at the world’s remains.

The Bear stands strong, but feels the weight,
Of creeping fear and twisting fate.
The sickness spreads, the madness blooms —
A sweet perfume of certain doom.

Something wicked this way comes,
With drumbeat steps and hollow drums.
The sky will crack, the sun will drown,
And all will bow when they wear their crown.

In crystal’s clasp, The Creator sleeps,
While power stirs and slowly creeps.
A wicked heart, a soulless grin,
As darkness swells and storms begin.

The Cat keeps watch with eyes of flame,
A silent stalker in this game.
With every purr, with every stride,
The plague spreads far and slips inside.

The Bear stands tall, but shakes with fear,
For whispers crawl and scratch her ear.
Madness blooms like poison’s kiss,
And reason falls to the abyss.

The crystal hums, the hour nears,
A song of ruin, built on fears.
When it cracks, the world will break,
And all will burn in The Creator’s wake.

So run, dear Bear, but know this well —
Doom rides fast, and tolls its bell.
The Servants soft steps, the rising tide —
There’s nowhere left for you to hide.

So run, dear Bear, while time allows,
Before the storm breaks through the boughs.
For when the cocoon splits wide and true,
The world will end — and so will you.