Round 129

Seraphine stumbles forward into the new chamber, her heart hammering against her ribs from the adrenaline rush of their harrowing escape through the collapsing corridors. The ground beneath her feet is solid once more, but the air is thick with ancient power, a palpable hum that makes her skin prickle. She takes in the vast space around them—walls covered in intricate carvings that pulse with a faint inner light, each symbol telling a story she can’t quite decipher. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time—beautiful because of the craftsmanship, terrifying because she knows this is the heart of the tower's power.

Jeane moves ahead with deadly precision, her crossbow trained on the shadows ahead. Seraphine feels a surge of pride at her friend’s bravery, even as she knows her own role is to back her up. "We're stronger together," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Now move—quickly." As they advance, the corridor opens into a vast chamber. The air here is thick with ancient power, a palpable hum that makes Seraphine's skin prickle.*

The walls are covered in intricate carvings that pulse with a faint inner light, each symbol telling a story she can’t quite decipher. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time—beautiful because of the craftsmanship, terrifying because she knows this is the heart of the tower's power.