Round 8 Transcript

The widening fissure shudders once more, and a shallow pit of black fluid drops into it, its surface rippling with a faint, resonant hum that vibrates through the ash‑laden air. The liquid’s edges glow with a dim crimson light, hinting at unseen currents below. The ground around the pit cracks further, leaving a jagged lip that threatens to swallow any footstep too close.

I step toward the newly opened fissure in the road. Stay back—both of you. My voice carries the unspoken weight of a command, directed at Silra and the floundering guard alike.

The black fluid leaking from that gap is wrong—I can feel it even before I see its slick surface ripple with an unnatural rhythm. The edges glow faintly crimson when disturbed. I draw my sorcerer's focus down into that sensation: the resonant hum vibrating up through the soles of my boots, the subtle pressure against my skin.

Silra, keep your blade sheathed and stand well away from the lip. Sister Hale—assess if this fluid has any consecrated properties or corruption you can sense. I gesture to her without looking back. And you, city watch—if you can't control that weapon in my presence, hand it over before you hurt yourself again.

I watch Jeane stride toward the glowing mess with a confidence I can't match right now—not with my head pounding like a smith's hammer. That fluid isn't road slime, love. It moves wrong, even when we're not looking at it. And since when do cracks in Gravehill roads open up convenient peep-holes to the underworld? The ground groans beneath my boots as I back away, eyeing the jagged lip of the fissure. That guard's on his ass because he tripped over a stone he'd walked on twice before. Convenient. Too convenient. I crouch low, pressing my good hand to the ash-covered cobblestones, feeling for vibrations or shifts that don't belong. Something's under this street trying to get out. I glance at Jeane, then at the groaning sky overhead. Rain might wash this shit away before it gets worse—or it might flood the cracks and drown whatever's down there. Either way, standing here is asking for a third round with that guard or whatever else is in play.