Round 195 Transcript

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Seraphine takes a step forward, her eyes locked on the reflection of herself. The other Seraphine's gaze is intense, almost pleading. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. The reflection's eyes flicker to Jeane, who stands ready, her wings crackling with energy. The reflection continues, "Some of it... some of it isn't what you think. You remember the tower's trials, but what if I told you that was just a test? A test of your worthiness to face the true horror within these walls?" The air in the room seems to vibrate with unease as the other Seraphine's words hang in the balance. As she speaks, the twisted books on the shelves seem to lean in, as if listening to their conversation. The Keeper of the Test's voice booms in the distance, "The reflections are not what they seem," a warning that seems to be directed at Seraphine herself.

I watch the reflection speak, my wings still crackling with defensive energy. Something about this whole setup stinks worse than the rotting sweetness filling the air. "Test of worthiness" My ass it is.

Before I can even open my mouth to tell her exactly where she and this 'test' can shove themselves, the ground beneath us groans like a dying man's last breath. Dust falls from the ceiling in thick clouds. Great. Just fucking great. I spin around, looking up at the crumbling stone above us. Of course the tower chooses now to start its death rattle. Because why make this easy for us?*

I turn back to Seraphine and her reflection, my patience already thinning. Sweetheart, I love you more than my own sanity—which is saying something given how often I've considered checking myself into an asylum after some of the shit we've faced—but we don't have time for this 'test' bullshit. I gesture at the collapsing ceiling with a sharp flick of my wrist. The whole damn building is coming down, and while that's terrifying as fuck, it's also very real and very immediate.*

My runes pulse in warning across my skin, matching the urgency pounding through my veins. Whatever truth you think you're about to uncover? It better be worth dying for. Because right now, staying alive to uncover it is looking like our best option. I grab Seraphine's wrist, pulling her away from her reflection. We can come back and play 'truth or dare' with your evil twin later if we survive this architectural apocalypse. As I pull her towards the exit—assuming there even is an exit in this twisted version of reality—I keep my eyes on the ceiling, watching as cracks spiderweb across the stone. The sound of grinding rock fills the air. Move your ass! I snap, my free hand already reaching for a spell that might buy us seconds if not minutes. Unless you want to end up as part of this library's permanent collection! Seraphine stumbles after me, her face set in determination despite the obvious confusion and lingering desire to know more that I can see warring with her survival instinct. Good. She's listening to the part of her that knows when to fight and when to run. We'll come back for answers if we live through this, I mutter, mostly to myself but loud enough for her to hear. And next time, I'm bringing a fireball instead of just words. The exit is there—thank fuck—and as we burst into the hallway, the library behind us collapses with a sound like the world ending. Dust and debris fill the air, choking and blinding. Keep moving! I shout, my voice already going hoarse from the dust.

We run through corridors that seem to shift and change as we move through them—one moment it's stone, then wood, then something that feels like living tissue under our feet. The whole place is a nightmare of impossible architecture. How much further? Seraphine gasps between breaths, her hand clinging to mine.

I have no fucking idea, I think but don't say aloud. Instead, I just keep running, my wings tucked in tight against my back as we dodge falling debris and navigate corridors that seem to fold in on themselves like paper origami.*

The dust chokes me as we run, my lungs burning with every breath. The sound of collapsing stone follows us like a rabid dog, snapping at our heels. Jeane's grip on my hand is painful, but it's what keeps me moving, what stops me from turning back to look for that reflection, for answers to questions I suddenly realize I don't even fully understand.
We round a corner and skid to a halt. Ahead of us is a massive, circular room with a high, vaulted ceiling. It looks like a giant clock face, covered in intricate gears and pulsing magical runes. At the center stands a towering figure, its form shifting between human and some kind of monstrous, arachnid creature. It turns its head slowly, multiple eyes focusing on us.
This has to be Merrin's trial, I think, my heart hammering against my ribs. The one she didn't survive. But what is this thing? And why does it look so familiar?
The creature speaks, its voice a chorus of whispers and growls. "Welcome, Seraphine. You seek a truth you were never meant to know." Its words echo in my mind, a chilling promise and a taunting riddle all in one.
Next to me, Jeane tenses, her wings flaring out in a defensive posture. She looks at the creature, then back at me, her expression a mix of worry and determination. "We're getting Merrin," she says, her voice a low growl over the groaning of the collapsing tower around us. "And we're getting out of this fucking nightmare."
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. My eyes dart between Jeane and the creature, then back to the collapsed passage behind us. There's no escape but forward now.
Jeane raises her hands, runes flaring to life on her skin. "Get ready," she mutters, more to herself than to me. "This is going to hurt."