Round 716

The corridor groaned around them like a dying beast, stone grinding against stone in a sound that set Merrin’s teeth on edge. She hung precariously from the narrow ledge, her fingers finding what little purchase they could in the ancient masonry. Below her, the pit yawned like a dark maw, its floor slick with moisture and gods-knew-what else. Her ankle screamed protest with every movement, but adrenaline dulled the pain to a manageable throb.

The memory of near-drowning still clawed at the edges of her thoughts, fueling an urgency that had nothing to do with the crumbling tower around them. She needed solid ground. Needed to get to Varikka before…

"Varikka!" she called again, her voice strained. "Talk to me! Are you still holding on?" No response immediately came, and panic began to claw at Merrin’s ribs. The crack in the ceiling had widened even as she watched, a dark vein snaking across the stone. Another section gave way with a groan, dust billowing down in a thick choking cloud.

"FUCK!" Merrin spat, pressing herself closer to the wall as more debris rained down. When the air cleared, she could see the full extent of the damage—a new fissure snaked across the ceiling like a dark web, spreading with every passing second. The entire corridor felt unstable now, the very stones seeming to vibrate with stress.

"Varikka!" she tried again, her voice cracking with desperation this time. "Please answer me! I need to know you're okay!" Still no response. Panic surged hot and sharp in her chest. Was Varikka unconscious? Worse—was they trapped under the falling debris? Or had they managed to climb out somehow while Merrin was struggling with the pit?

She couldn’t stay here much longer. The ceiling was coming down, and she needed solid ground beneath her feet if she wanted any chance of survival. But leaving meant abandoning Varikka—assuming they were even still alive—and that wasn't an option.

Merrin shifted her weight carefully, testing the ledge with her toes. It held for now, but how long could that last? The entire corridor was a death trap waiting to spring. She needed a plan. Needed to find a way up—or down—that didn’t involve falling into the pit or being crushed by collapsing stone.

Her gaze swept the area, searching for any option beyond sheer luck and hope. And then she saw it—a narrow gap in the wall opposite the pit, barely visible in the dim light. It wasn't much, but it was something—an alternative path that might lead to safety instead of certain death.

Merrin took a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain in her ankle and the fear gnawing at her insides. She had to move. Had to find Varikka—or their body—and get them both out of this cursed tower before it collapsed entirely.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered, and began to inch her way across the ledge toward the gap in the wall. Each movement was careful, deliberate, her fingers finding new purchase in the ancient stone as she worked her way sideways. The pit yawned below her, a constant reminder of how easily this could all go wrong.

Behind her, the ceiling groaned again, more stone shifting ominously. Merrin didn't dare look back. She kept her eyes fixed on the gap ahead, moving as quickly as her injured ankle would allow. Every second counted now—every inch gained brought her closer to solid ground and further from certain death.

The gap loomed larger as she approached, offering a sliver of hope in an increasingly desperate situation. Merrin reached it at last, her fingers closing around the rough stone edge with a sigh of relief. She hauled herself through with more effort than grace, collapsing onto solid floor on the other side.

She lay there for a moment, catching her breath and letting the reality of being off that ledge sink in. Then she pushed herself upright, wincing at the pain in her ankle but too relieved to care much. The corridor here was different—narrower, darker, with a distinct musty smell hanging in the air.

But it was solid. And more importantly, it wasn't collapsing around her ears.

Merrin took another deep breath, forcing herself to focus despite the lingering headache and anxiety gnawing at her thoughts. She needed to find Varikka—and fast. The fighter might still be alive, trapped under debris or injured but conscious somewhere nearby. Or they might not be. Either way, Merrin had to know.

She moved further down the new corridor, one hand trailing along the wall for balance, the other clutching her mace at the ready. Every shadow held potential threat, every sound made her heart race a little faster. The tower was playing with them now, offering false safety only to reveal new horrors around each corner.

But she had to keep going. Had to find Varikka—and the sword they'd come here for in the first place. Because giving up wasn't an option. Not when there was still hope—however slim—that they could make it out alive.

The corridor stretched ahead, dark and uncertain as ever. Merrin squared her shoulders and kept moving forward, ready to face whatever awaited her next.