Round 722

The tower groaned like a wounded beast, stone grinding against stone in a symphony of impending doom. Merrin pressed herself against the wall opposite Varikka, her dark eyes wide and alert despite the terror that gripped her insides. The air was thick with dust and the stench of decay, making each breath a struggle.

"Now!" she screamed, throwing her entire weight against the shifting rubble beside her companion. Her wiry arms burned with effort as she fought to contain the avalanche, muscles screaming in protest. Varikka matched her push for push, face contorted in agony as her sprained ankle screamed beneath her. Together they managed to stem the flow, but the...

The ground trembled, a low rumble that seemed to emanate from deep within the tower's bowels. A section of ceiling overhead cracked with an ominous groan, and then collapsed inward, sending a cascade of stone and dust raining down mere feet away. Merrin ducked instinctively, shielding her face with one arm while maintaining her grip on Varikka's shoulder with the other.

"Move!" she barked, already pulling her companion toward the narrow gap they'd managed to create in the rubble barrier. There was no time to think about what lay beyond - only the desperate need to escape the collapsing death trap behind them. The two women scrambled over the unstable pile of stones, hearts pounding in unison as the corridor seemed to come alive around them, groaning and shifting with each movement.

They emerged into a large chamber filled with more rubble than floor space, the air thick with dust that caught in their throats and stung their eyes. For a moment, they stood there panting, taking in their new surroundings - and the ominous sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the stone maze behind them.

"Shit," Merrin hissed, already scanning for an escape route as she fought to control her racing heart. The Guardian was coming, and fast. They needed a plan - and they needed it now.