Round 73

Jeane’s crimson eyes narrow as she studies the shifting energies emanating from Merrin’s altered form, her expression a mix of academic curiosity and deep unease. “Soul binding of this magnitude… it’s not meant for simple possession,” she mutters more to herself than to Halie or Seraphine standing nearby. The massive construct looms before them now, its clawed hand poised over Merrin like some dark god presiding over a profane ritual. Each creak of the unstable catwalk beneath their feet echoes the tension coiling in Jeane’s gut. She takes a measured step forward, her leathery wings twitching instinctively as she prepares for whatever comes next.

Across the precarious bridge, Halie feels sick watching Merrin rise like that—her eyes glowing with an unnatural light, her voice carrying an echo that doesn’t belong to their friend. The intricate runes covering Merrin’s skin aren’t just symbols anymore; they’re a whole system of control, each glyph pulsing with dark magic that makes Halie’s skin crawl. She grips her mace tighter, the rough wood digging into her palms as she fights the urge to rush forward. “What did you do?” she calls out, her voice harsher than intended, fear making it sharp. Next to her, Seraphine is frozen in place—probably running through every spell component and ritual she knows, searching for a solution that won’t make things worse.

The unstable catwalk groans again under their combined weight, a fresh crack appearing near where the construct stands. “This whole thing feels like it’s about to come down,” Halie mutters, more to herself than anyone else. The ancient stonework looks ready to crumble at any moment, and the thought of Merrin trapped below if this bridge collapses makes her stomach drop.