Round 8

As Jeane steps toward the newly opened fissure, her voice carries an unspoken weight, commanding both Silra and the guard to stay back. The black fluid leaking from the gap is wrong, its surface rippling with an unnatural rhythm that vibrates through the ash-laden air. The edges glow faintly crimson when disturbed, hinting at unseen currents below. Jeane's focus draws down into this sensation, feeling the resonant hum vibrating up through her boots.

Silra watches Jeane stride toward the glowing mess with a confidence she can't match, her head still pounding from the guard's blade. The fluid isn't road slime; it moves wrong, even when they're not looking at it. Silra backs away, eyeing the jagged lip of the fissure as the ground groans beneath her boots.