Round 609

Merrin steps forward, her eyes locked on the Guardian. "Listen," she says, her voice firm and steady. "We're not giving up. We'll find a way out of here, no matter what it takes." She glances at Varikka, taking in her pained expression and the way she's struggling to keep her balance on her injured ankle. "We're a team," she continues, turning back to face the Guardian. "And we look out for each other. So whatever bullshit you've got planned, it's not going to work." She raises her crossbow, aiming it steadily at the Guardian's chest. "You want to see us struggle? Fine. But know this—we're not going down without a fight."

Varrika steps forward, her hand gripping her mace tightly. The pain in her ankle is excruciating, but she ignores it. Her eyes are fixed on the Guardian, her gaze unwavering. "Listen, you son of a bitch," she growls through clenched teeth. "We've made it this far, and we're not about to let some two-bit thug stop us now." She takes another step forward, her voice growing louder as she speaks. "I don't know what your deal is, but I don't care. You want to see us struggle? Fine. But we'll struggle our way right out of this shithole." She raises her mace, ready to strike if necessary. "So bring it on, asshole. Let's see what you've got."

The Guardian's expression remains unreadable as he listens to Merrin and Varrika's defiant speeches. He makes a small gesture with his hand, and suddenly the countdown timer on the console begins to tick down rapidly—10... 9... 8... "I'm afraid your time is up," he says calmly. "Now, let's see how you handle the real challenge."