Round 197 Transcript

As the creature charges toward us, Jeane's runes flare up in a burst of energy. She casts a spell that sends the creature flying backward, but it quickly recovers, its multiple eyes glowing with an unnatural light. The creature lunges at us again, and this time, we're forced to dodge to avoid its outstretched claws. We stumble back, our breathing heavy, as the clock face behind the creature begins to glow brighter, casting an eerie blue light throughout the room. The floor beneath us gives a loud creak, and I feel a surge of fear as I realize the structural collapse is getting worse. The walls start to shake, and I can hear the sound of stones falling from above. We need to move fast if we want to survive. Seraphine grabs Jeane's hand, and we exchange a look, both of us thinking the same thing: we have to keep moving forward.

I feel the entire tower groan around us like a dying beast, and I know—absolutely fucking KNOW—that we don't have time for this shit. That thing is bad news with a capital 'B', but right now it's just another obstacle between us and survival. The binding circle is already draining me dry, my vision starting to blur at the edges from magical exertion. My wings ache from being constantly deployed, ready to defend or flee. I need Seraphine to understand this isn't about winning—it's about not dying in a collapsing tomb. Sweetheart, I gasp out between breaths, that thing can wait. The tower is coming down. We don't have minutes, we might not even have seconds. I grab her arm, my fingers digging into skin—not caring if it hurts—and pull her towards the far side of this cursed room. We're getting through here and finding Merrin or dying trying! My voice cracks on the last word because yeah, I'm panicking. Anyone would be.

The runes across my body flare up again as another chunk of ceiling crashes down behind us. MOVE YOUR ASS! I snap at her, but it's not cruel—it's desperation. We need to get past this clock-fuck before the whole place collapses and we're buried alive with our questions.

As we sprint across the room, I risk a glance back at Seraphine. Her face is set in determination, dust coating her cheeks and fear evident in her eyes. You ready for this? I shout over the roar of falling stone. Because once we're past that thing, we're committed to whatever fresh hell awaits us! My hands are already starting a spell, something flashy and powerful that might buy us seconds or minutes—either way, it'll have to do. The ground beneath our feet bucks like an angry mule as the magic of this place fights back against me. This is gonna hurt! I warn her, even though there's no time for niceties now.

I feel the cold stone of the tower wall press against my back as we skid to a halt, our chests heaving with exertion. The creature looms before us, its multiple eyes glinting with malice under the pulsing blue light of the clock face. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of fear and adrenaline.
Jeane's grip on my arm is like iron, her fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to make me wince. She's right—this thing can wait. The entire building is coming down around our ears, and the sound of collapsing stone is getting louder by the second. Every instinct screams at me to run, to get out of this place before it buries us alive.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the panic rising in my throat. I meet Jeane's eyes, seeing the same desperate determination reflected back at me. "Let's do this," I say, my voice so low it's almost lost in the chaos of falling debris. My mind races, trying to remember what little I know about the trials Merrin faced. The clock face... it has to be part of it. Maybe if we can get past it, we'll find her. My hand goes to my belt, feeling for the heavy mace that's become my primary weapon since losing my staff. It feels inadequate against this monstrosity, but it's all I have. "What's the plan?" I ask Jeane, knowing full well there probably isn't one. Not with the tower collapsing and a giant spider-creature blocking our path.
As if in answer, another section of the ceiling gives way with a deafening crash, sending clouds of dust and debris raining down on us. We cough and sputter, trying to shield our faces. The creature seems unfazed, its eyes still fixed on us. "We're out of time," I mutter, more to myself than to Jeane. My grip tightens on the mace handle, my knuckles white.* "Whatever we're going to do... it has to be now."