Round 187

The water roared around them, pressure building until it felt like Merrin's ears might burst. She stumbled forward, barely keeping her footing on the slick stone as the entire chamber groaned ominously. The sound was unmistakable—structural failure, catastrophic and imminent.

"Varikka!" she screamed over the din of collapsing masonry. Her hands found the other woman's arm, yanked hard. "Move! Now!"

The tentacled horror still had Seraphine, its grip tightening as it dragged her toward the alcove. Merrin saw it clearly now—the creature pulling her friend deeper into the darkness. She knew they didn't have minutes, probably not even seconds.

"Fuck," she hissed, already moving. Her eyes darted around the rapidly disintegrating space, searching for options. None presented themselves that wouldn't involve leaving Seraphine behind. The guilt tasted bitter and sharp in her throat as she made the only choice available: survive this collapse long enough to attempt a rescue.

The water was freezing, seeping through her leathers, chilling her to the bone. She needed heat, needed higher ground, but the tunnels were flooding fast. Her torch guttered, flame barely visible against the encroaching darkness.

"Stay alive," she whispered, not sure if Seraphine could even hear. Then Merrin ran for her life, the sound of crumbling stone and rushing water filling her ears as the world came apart around her.