Round 188

Seraphine's eyes narrow as she grips the ornate box tighter, its weight increasing with each passing moment. The air crackles with arcane energy, Jeane's power filling the room like a physical presence. She can feel the strain in her friend's voice, see the sweat beading on her skin despite the chill of the chamber. "I'm not suggesting we embrace anything," she calls back, her words barely audible over the groaning stone and creaking walls. "But there has to be a middle ground between blind obedience and suicidal stubbornness. We can't just keep throwing ourselves at problems until luck runs out."

Jeane's crimson eyes flash with barely contained fury as she glares at her doppelganger, the runes on her skin pulsating with dark energy. "You think you can tempt us with promises of power?" she hisses, her voice dripping with disgust. "We're not like you—we don't sell our souls for cheap tricks." She turns to Seraphine, her expression softening slightly despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Seraphine, whatever it's saying, don't listen. This thing is a liar—a manipulator..."

The chamber shakes again, more violently this time, sending cracks spider-webbing across the floor. The box in Seraphine's arms suddenly feels heavier, almost alive, its magic pulsating with each tremor. Jeane's power fills the room, a storm of dark energy that both terrifies and captivates her. Her resolve is admirable, even if it's pushing her to the brink of exhaustion. "I'm not suggesting we embrace anything," she calls back over her shoulder, her voice barely audible above the groaning stone. "But there has to be a middle ground between blind obedience and suicidal stubbornness. We can't just keep throwing ourselves at problems until luck runs out."