The tunnels shook, groaning under the weight of destruction.
Magic burned in the air, sharp as lightning and thick as smoke. Every breath stung.
Every heartbeat sounded like the crack of splitting stone.
Yara reached out and pressed on the claw holding her down. "Please, Val, we need to get out of here."
Val's eyes narrowed until an explosion rocked the space
Yara stumbled forward through the wreckage, her boots slipping in blood and ash, one arm wrapped around the torn flesh of her side.
The fortress was coming apart above them—crumbling walls, shattering pipes, fire crawling up its bones like ivy.
Behind her, Val moved, a shadow of molten gold and ruin. His massive body strained against the collapsing space, wings dragging sparks along the ceiling.
His scales bled light. Gold trickled from the cracks in his chest where smuggler blades had pierced too deeply.
"Keep moving," she shouted over the roar of fire, coughing as ash filled her throat. "Can you shift?"
