The Huntsman flew in from the mainland, failing in his landing and bouncing across the San Francisco beach. "Ow." He tried to lift himself, but lacked the will to do it just yet. Flying clear across the country could really take it out of you. Incapable of raising his head, he simply relocated an eye to the side of his head. Through it he saw the sun, still not quite a quarter of the way to the horizon behind Alcatraz. He still had a couple of hours before it was too late.
He spread his wings to push himself to his feet, stumbled for a second, and flew up to get a better look at the island. Even from the shore, he could see a buzzing barrier around the island, a glowing bubble just beneath the range of human vision in frequency. The Swallower of Worlds didn't make those. It seemed his cult had survived their encounter with the Huntsman. Likely they had pulled a few strings to get themselves some time alone. Why though? They could have hid out somewhere more remote, perhaps over the arctic circle where it was always night. Why Alcatraz? He was shaken out of his thoughts by the odd fact that the island seemed to be moving. He doubled the size of his eyes in an attempt to correct his vision. It seemed to be shaking harder. "What the-"
The blast hurtled him back and tore him from the sky like a downed bird. He could vaguely hear screaming, but it seemed so far away he hardly knew if it was real. Odd that Alcatraz seemed unharmed with so many buildings falling around him. He crashed back down on the sand, learning three things. 1. The Swallower had begun to transform into his true self. 2. He was going to find a way in and stop this madness. 3. He was going to dieeeeeeeee.
Within the darkened prison, darkness took solid form. A swirling cocoon of shadow hovered over a cloaked figure, whispers and growls coming from within. "My priestess. They will try to stop us. How does our work go?" The voice was deeper than the core of the planet and darker than the darkness it crept from. "Almost finished, my lord. I only need another minute." The response was subdued and careful, as was appropriate when talking to one's god. "Take your time. I have other defenses in mind." In the billions of years of his true lifespan, he had never lost. He could afford to be patient.