Round 202

Jeane's hand hovers over the clock face mechanism, her crimson eyes fixed on the spinning numbers with barely contained panic. The runes across her arms pulse ominously, feeding magic into the binding circle that separates them from the arachnid horror behind. She glances back at the creature—its multiple eyes still locked on Seraphine—and hisses through gritted teeth. This had better work, or I'm holding you personally responsible for getting us both killed, she warns, her voice tight with fear and frustration. The tower groans around them, dust raining from the ceiling as the structure begins to collapse in earnest. Seraphine steps closer to Jeane despite herself—*