Round 204

Seraphine’s voice cuts through the groaning tower, sharp with urgency. “Stop at the top!” she commands, her eyes fixed on the spinning clock hands. Jeane’s fingers freeze mid-spin, the mechanism grinding to a halt as it clicks into place. Silence descends for a heartbeat—then the binding circle erupts with blinding light.

The runes sear themselves into the stone floor, glowing hot enough to melt metal. The creature recoils, its shadowy form writhing in agony as the magic chains visible only to Jeane and Seraphine tighten around it. But the construct is already weakening, its substance bleeding away like ink in water.

Seraphine staggers back, her face pale in the magical glare. “It’s not enough,” she gasps. “The tower—it’s trying to expel us both!”