Round 155

The Voice's laughter had been a physical blow, and Merrin felt her magic waning dangerously low—fuck. The ground beneath them cracked with a sound like shattering glass, sending Varrika stumbling backward as the crystal platform tilted at an impossible angle. The dwarf's powerful hands found purchase on a jagged edge, fingers digging into the smooth surface even as it shifted and warped under their grip.

The air around them seemed to thicken, pressing in with an otherworldly energy that made Merrin's skin crawl. She knew they needed to act fast—if this dimension wanted to separate them, they'd have to fight harder than ever before. But her magic reserves were critically low, and the very ground was trying to shake them loose.

Varrika's eyes locked onto the figure in Shimmering Light, its presence both captivating and terrifying. Its outstretched hand sent waves of energy rippling through the ground, making it buck and heave around them. The dwarf threw out their arms, trying to steady themselves as they lost balance, but the shifting terrain was too much.

Merrin felt a wave of despair wash over her, the hopelessness of their situation hitting her like a physical blow. But even as the ground threatened to swallow them whole, she knew that she couldn't let fear control her. She had to maintain her protective cocoon, shield Varrika from the crystal plain's energy, and assess the dwarf's stamina levels.

The Voice's mocking laughter still echoed in her mind: "Your greatest fear is not what you expect, but what you cannot escape." Merrin gritted her teeth, focusing every ounce of remaining magic into keeping them both alive. She wouldn't let this dimension separate them—not yet anyway.