Round 195

The air in the labyrinth of reflections grew thick with dust and the stench of decay as the structure above creaked and moaned like a beast in its death throes. Seraphine stumbled forward, her gaze locked on the vision of herself trapped within the distorting glass, while Jeane positioned herself between the elf scholar and the temptation of the otherworldly double. The ground beneath them heaved, stone grinding against stone, and the sorceress's crimson eyes darted upward as chunks of masonry began to rain down around them.

"You what?" Seraphine hissed, her voice tight with barely contained panic or rage—it was hard to tell which in the chaos. The reflection's lips moved, forming words that seemed to echo through the very stone, but the sound was lost beneath the cacophony of collapsing architecture. Jeane didn't wait for clarification; she grabbed Seraphine's wrist and yanked her away from the mirror-world entrance just as a section of ceiling gave way with a groan that sounded almost relieved.

They sprinted down the corridor, Jeane's wings half-spread for balance, her free hand already tracing arcane symbols in the air. "Don't stop!" she shouted over her shoulder, her voice barely audible above the thunder of their own footsteps and the rumble of collapsing chambers behind them. The hallway ahead forked into three directions—all equally menacing with their peeling walls and shadows that seemed to writhe with unseen motion.

Seraphine skidded to a halt at the junction, gasping for air. "Which way?" she demanded, her eyes streaming from the dust, her patience worn thin by fear and frustration. Jeane's expression was grim as she glanced back at the rapidly collapsing passage they'd just fled. "Does it matter?" she spat, already moving toward the leftmost corridor without waiting for a consensus. The ground lurched again, and a section of wall near Seraphine crumbled inward with a sound like tearing cloth.

The elf wizard didn't need to be told twice; she followed Jeane into the darkness, her heart pounding in rhythm with the dying breaths of the tower around them.