Round 110

The chamber's glow intensifies, an electric anticipation crackling through the air. The blue light from the carvings pulses in sync with Jeane's erratic heartbeat, her crimson gaze locked onto Halie's across the binding's visible connection. Silra readies her short sword, teal eyes scanning the darkness for threats while Zha'thik's footsteps echo ominously closer.

Jeane stumbles forward despite her exhaustion—wings barely keeping her upright as magical fatigue screams through every nerve—but locks crimson eyes onto Halie's blue-grey ones across the binding connection. Trigger it. The world tilts sideways under her feet, but she forces herself to maintain control over at least this one choice.

Halie's shield shatters into crystalline fragments—the magical backlash slamming her against the far wall as every spell cast over the last three days unravels in reverse order. The binding pulses between them like a second heartbeat gone wrong—each thread screaming under the strain of such sudden, violent release. Blue-grey eyes widen in shock as she struggles to regain her footing and maintain any semblance of control over her own magic.

The door slams shut behind them with finality—as if sealing their fates inside this ancient ritual chamber forever.