Round 18

The demon’s power surged, plunging the room into absolute darkness that felt almost physical in its intensity. The oppressive weight of the shadows seemed to press in from all sides, thick and suffocating, while its malevolent presence grew more tangible with each passing second. Jeane’s wings beat slowly in agitation, her faint glow the sole other source of light in the stifling gloom.

“Enough of your games,” she hissed into the darkness, her voice cold and defiant despite the obvious strain in her tone. “You want me to understand myself? Then show yourself as you truly are—stop hiding behind this stolen form.” Her power responded to her call, magic crackling along her skin in visible arcs that fought against the encroaching shadows.

Halie stepped forward boldly—or perhaps recklessly—the weak light from her symbol casting stark shadows across her determined features. “Enough posturing,” she replied, her voice steady despite the obvious fear lurking beneath its surface. “You claim to offer wisdom and understanding? Then…”

Silra watched the room go dark, her hand instinctively moving to the small of her back where she kept her concealed blade. Great, just great. I knew this place was too good to be true—had to be some kind of setup or scam. And now we’re trapped in the dark with… whatever this is. She stepped away from the wall, her elven eyes adjusting faster than human sight would allow, picking out shapes and movement where others might see only darkness.