Round 112

The binding snaps between them all, its threads unraveling with a sudden sharp pain that makes several gasp aloud. Silra rushes to Ha... The magical connection severs completely—Jeane staggers backward as the feedback overloads her already taxed senses. Halie collapses against the wall, eyes wide and unfocused while she grapples with the abrupt severance of something fundamental. Abby remains frozen in place, her face pale and drawn as she clutches at her chest where the entity had been lodged moments ago.

Jeane recovers first, crimson eyes narrowing as she scans the chamber for immediate threats while trying to assess the damage. "Everyone okay?" she asks sharply—already knowing the answer is no but needing confirmation before moving forward. Halie shakes her head slowly, still processing. "I... I felt it let go," she manages unsteadily. Abby doesn't respond verbally—just nods once in a jerky motion that says more about her terror than any words could.

Silence falls heavy for several seconds as the reality of their situation sinks in fully. Then distant footsteps echo from beyond the ornate door at the top of the stairs—the rhythmic thud of something large and deliberate approaching. Jeane's expression darkens. "Fuck," she hisses under her breath. The footsteps pause briefly, then continue descending with renewed purpose.*