Somewhat problematically, at least in Baedal, one of Lea's primary magical tools are mirrors. Call it a play on vanity (not actually one of her primary sins, but an easy mistake to make given her hyper-feminine presentation). As they progress through what seems to be an increasingly narrow mirrored corridor, she pauses at one of the mirrors, sensing something slightly awry with its face. With her reflection.

Lea leans forward just minutely and breathes on the surface of the mirror. Instead of momentarily fogging her reflection, its face ripples, as though it is water disrupted. While that is not, in and of itself, overtly ominous, it tells her that there is indeed some kind of magic here, perhaps old, perhaps new, and that it has been worked on these reflective surfaces.

She turns to call to Wolfgang, to warn him.

Unfortunately, before she can get a word out, something reaches out from the bottom of the mirror next and grasps her ankle.

"--Criss!" Lea fortunately twists away from its touch, but it's too late. Slowly each surface is disrupted as dozens and dozens of hands begin to extend from the mirrors, each filled with an identical fist attached to an identical arm, and the engineer's brain notices a symmetry to these hands' placement that is near-identical to the format of the many holes embedded on the cliff-side they saw earlier. There is a mathematic principle to this, and maths are of interest to her.

She backs up toward Wolfgang, wide-eyed, as the arms extend past the wrist in their reach, opening and closing, endlessly grasping.