Round 834

The tunnel opens into a vast chamber, water cascading down from unseen heights to join the rushing channel below. Merrin hauls Varikka's weight with desperate strength, her fingers aching as she fights to keep them both upright on the slick stone lip. The current tugs at their boots, threatening to pull them off balance and into the churning depths.

"Everyone still alive back there?" Merrin shouts over the roar of rushing water. Her voice barely carries, swallowed by the echoing chamber. She twists, trying to see behind her in the gloom, but the angle is wrong. No response comes immediately—too much noise, too much distance between them now.

Panic flares hot and sharp in Merrin's chest. She can't lose Varikka—not like this, not after everything. Her hands are already moving before she fully registers the thought, fingers working at the straps holding the heavy pack with practiced efficiency. The Time-Splitting Sword shifts against her back as she maneuvers, a weight that suddenly feels too heavy to bear.

"Varikka!" she calls again, louder this time, voice cracking with urgency. "Answer me! Are you okay?" She doesn't wait for a response before leaning forward, using her body as a brace against the stone edge. The pack slides off her shoulders, and she lowers it carefully towards the water below, fighting against the current that wants to tear it away.

The pack hits the surface with a splash, bobbing precariously in the swift-moving channel. Merrin watches it disappear downstream, heart pounding. She can't afford to lose that sword—not after coming this far, not when it might be their only chance at survival. But Varikka needs her more than any legendary blade right now.

"Please," she whispers, though no one's around to hear. "Just hold on."