The Princess of Siranteos

Eden clears the final gap, and the underhall answers with a sickening groan. The stone beneath the ruin softens like wax, the floor beginning to sink and flow around the remaining party.

Dust rains from the ceiling in a thin veil. Below the opening, Kha'zura, Nazareth, Araneidan, and The Archivist brace as the liquefying ground creeps toward their feet and the old seal pulses in violet hunger.

The pulse reaches Eden through the walls of her body, not as pain, but as invitation. She feels the prison and the thing within it tugging at the same blood that holds both shut and open.

Eden plants herself at the edge of the opening and drives her divine power downward, forcing light through the trembling stone. Faint pink runes across her body blaze brighter, and the floor begins to stiffen under her will.

The ruin shudders, but the nearest span of stone locks in place. The entity remains contained for now, yet it now knows exactly where Eden stands.

Eden hooks Kha'zura's forearm and heaves. The ledge bites under her grip, but the pull is sure, and his boots skid free of the sinking stone.

He rises in one hard motion, water streaming from his armor as the floor below him wrinkles and starts to set. The violet pulse still throbs from beneath the ruin, but it no longer swallows the span he just left.

Nazareth watches the stabilizing stone with grave approval, while Araneidan keeps her woven limbs spread against the shaking air, eyes fixed on the seam below.

Dust continues to fall, but the nearest span holds. For the moment, the underhall stays together, though the sealed depth beneath it keeps pulsing like a buried heart.