Round 8

As Silra's words trailed off, the corridor's rhythm quickened, and the stone beneath their feet trembled ominously. A section of the ceiling gave way, sending a deluge of dust and debris cascading down upon them. In the chaos, Silra swiftly seized the initiative, her short sword at the ready as she guided Jeane and Sister Hale through the rubble-strewn passageway. The air was heavy with ozone-sharp magic, and the stone's vibration grew more insistent, warning of an impending breach.

As they cautiously navigated the newly exposed chamber, Silra's teal eyes darted about, searching for any signs of danger. She reached out to touch one of the crystalline orbs on a nearby pedestal, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings that adorned its surface. The orb pulsed with dark energy, making her teeth ache, but she detected no visible trap mechanism. "These aren't decorations," she murmured to Sister Hale and Jeane behind her. "They're focused points—someone designed this space to contain or channel something."