Round 90

The chamber air fills with the sharp scent of shattered glass and something older, more sinister. The crystal at the center pulses faster now, its rhythm erratic and violent, each beat sending fresh waves of madness through the air. Through the dust and debris, distorted reflections of Merrin and Varrika emerge—twisted versions of themselves, eyes burning with an unnatural light. The ground beneath them shifts and tilts with each heartbeat from the crystal, making it difficult to maintain balance.

Varrika staggers backward, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her mace even as she tries to process what she's seeing. Her fingers close around the familiar grip, but the weapon feels wrong in her hands—too heavy, too cold. The ground beneath her feet seems to shift and tilt with each heartbeat from the crystal, making it difficult to maintain her balance.

Merrin stands frozen, her dark eyes wide with horror as she stares at her own reflection. The twisted version of herself grins back, a hungry, predatory smile that has nothing of Merrin's usual quick wit or mischief. The rumbling grows louder, more insistent, and the air crackles with magical energy.

Halie’s voice cuts through the growing madness: “Ah, so you see the reflection. That is indeed not Serrine. But what do you make of it, Merrin? Does it seem… familiar?” Her words hang in the air, heavy with implications.

Varrika takes a step back, her eyes darting around the chamber as she tries to assess the situation. The mirrors shatter one by one in rapid succession, glass exploding outward from their centers. The sound is deafening in the enclosed space, a cacophony of breaking glass and echoing shards raining down around them.

Merrin breaks her horrified stare at the mirror and turns to face Halie. “What kind of problem?” she asks, her voice shaking with a blend of fear and revulsion. Her eyes dart around the chamber, taking in every detail as she tries to make sense of what’s happening.

The crystal pulses again, and suddenly, the rumbling stops. The air goes still, heavy with anticipation. Something is coming—the question is whether it will be salvation or damnation.