The fabricated order of Oakhaven shattered under a relentless assault of unbridled magic. Shimmering rifts, once isolated and fleeting, now tore through the city's veneer with alarming frequency, blossoming into gaping wounds that spewed forth chaotic elemental energies. Skyscrapers, symbols of human ingenuity, began to crack under the strain, their glass facades fracturing into crystalline patterns that mirrored the volatile energies within the breaches. A cacophony of alarms, panicked screams, and the guttural roar of displaced magical creatures filled the air, a visceral testament to the veil between worlds being irrevocably sundered. This wasn't merely Elara's magic spilling forth; an older, more malevolent pulse thrummed beneath the chaos, driving the rifts open wider, threatening to consume Oakhaven entirely.

Elara Meadowlight stood amidst the escalating pandemonium, her heart a raw knot of guilt and terror, the very air around her crackling with the forbidden power she wielded. Each new rift felt like a personal failing, a direct consequence of her desperate choices, amplified now by an insidious force she barely understood. The city, once a distant hum, was now a vibrant, terrified organism under siege, and she, the reluctant conduit, was at its epicenter. She could feel the ancient entity's influence, a cold tendril of power weaving through her own, distorting her control and exacerbating the destruction. Her resolve was tested by the sheer scale of the devastation, her magic, meant to heal, now seemingly a harbinger of ruin.