Round 59

Silra dropped into a combat-crouch mid-descent, her fingers finding purchase on jagged stone as she mapped handholds in her mind like a digital schematic. "FUCK—this is exactly what I warned against," she growled, palm scraping raw against rough edge. The ground bucks beneath them like a live wire—" Halie's hands tightened around her holy symbol—the pulsing white light casting stark shadows across the shifting stone walls.* This is exactly what they want: us separated, vulnerable—"