Even buzzing with the borrowed power that makes Lambert feel too small for his skin, Lambert's still Lambert. Mostly. Being possessed by Tamaki was one thing, like trying to share the same seat with someone else: uncomfortable and awkward, but doable. This is...

But it's not trying to wrest control from him, and though his soul feels like it's possibly being put through an industrial-strength washer (it needs it, part of him thinks almost absently) he doesn't have time to dwell on it. The shield dissipates as the shadows are vaporized by it, whatever magic they were being held together dispelled as they hit it, but there are more shadows coming, and the pillar and the ritual still aren't close enough. Lambert's aware he's been followed, but at the moment, he finds he can't much care about who it is.

The world feels like it's brimming with possibility, if he can just reach out and find the right thread to pull. There's stone under all this ice, isn't there?

He shuts his eyes, visualizing a prank he's pulled on -- his sisters? Someone else? he doesn't remember -- like yanking a rug out under someone's feet, except this time, that feeling is directed at the stone under the Count and his sisters.

Although, while he does that, yeah he just stops in the middle of everything, so. There is like no thought to this at all.