Hanna: “We must learn how they protect each other.”
Mirri: “After they’re done trying to kill us, all right?”

Spans of spines leapt from one sliver to the next, forming a deadly hedge around the Weatherlight.

“Fascinating … These creatures display the paradox of tenacity and purposed self-destruction I have sought to breed into my thrulls.”
—Endrek Sahr, master breeder

Covered with hard shell-like plates, these slivers burrow through solid rock to carve out new nests for their hives.

Slivers can turn a last stand into a stunning victory.

Traveling across the desert alone, you might assume you’d see them coming, but that would be your third mistake.

As the time streams grew more and more unstable, Dominaria’s creatures struggled to adapt. The intense pressures led to many dead ends but also to lethal new forms that appeared as suddenly as the ashen rains.

When it wriggled closer to a thrum of slivers, their talons hardened and glinted in the sun. One took a playful swipe at a tree trunk, and its new blade cut clean through.

“One would think I would be accustomed to unexpected returns.”
—Hanna, Weatherlight navigator

“Someone’s been tampering with the graves again. But what kind of grave robber uses a pickax?”
—Morgan, cemetery groundskeeper

Time has ground mountains to sand, but the slivers ever remain.

The Arturan conjurers took the strange, alien fossil and patterned their own twisted creations in its image.

Squee had been disemboweled many times before, but never by something so stunningly beautiful.

Gerrard looked all around for the source of the mysterious pulse, and at that moment the slivers boiled forth from the crevasses.

A bristling wave of slivers broke against the Weatherlight’s timbers.

Once they get the scent, there is no escape.

“These polearms were supposed to help!”
—Merrik Aidar, Benalish patrol

Its skin remains in a flowing, liquid state that keeps its body coated with potent restorative lymph.