Round 897

The tunnel's collapse came like thunder, close enough to make Merrin flinch despite being well ahead of the falling rocks. She clung to the stalactite with both hands, fingers white-knuckled around the slick stone as the ground shook beneath her feet. The sound was deafening - stone grinding against stone, a roar that seemed to come from the mountain itself rather than mere shifting earth. Dust billowed up from below, thick and choking, making her cough and turn her face away.

The fast-moving river below churned with renewed fury, its powerful current seeming to feed off the energy of the cave-in. Merrin could feel the vibration through the stone she clung to, a constant, unsettling tremor that made her stomach twist. She craned her neck carefully, trying to see further ahead in the narrow passage without losing her precarious grip.

The tunnel stretched out before her like a dark throat, winding and uncertain. The air was thick with moisture and the faint, musty smell of decaying organic matter mixed with mineral-rich water. Her head still ached dully from the noxious gas exposure earlier - a persistent, annoying throb that made her temples pulse. She needed to move forward, but every step meant leaving the relative safety of this handhold.

Varikka was back there somewhere, injured and trapped. The thought sent a fresh spike of anxiety through Merrin's chest. She couldn't help much clinging to stone halfway up a tunnel wall, but maybe she could at least find a way around or a safer path forward? She shifted her weight carefully, testing the stability of the next handhold.

The orb still pulsed above her, casting flickering blue light across the scene of impending doom. Merrin tried to focus on that steady glow rather than the churning water below or the ominous darkness ahead. One careful movement at a time. That was all she could manage right now.