The Tower was screaming.
Nathan was entirely unconscious, a dead weight in Mirko's arms. His blood was hot and sticky against her armor, a terrifying contrast to the freezing, suffocating darkness around them.
Behind them, the fountain's corrupted magic rippled outward in destructive waves. The old floors were violently buckling. Massive chunks of the cavern ceiling were shearing off and crashing into the blackness. The Whispering Dark Tower was collapsing.
"Move!" Elise commanded, her voice slicing through the roar of the earthquake.
Her staff blazed with an aggressive, pale blue light, fighting a losing battle against the encroaching void. Without slowing her sprint, she uncorked a high-grade healing potion and practically forced it down Nathan's throat. "It will stabilize his vitals! We have to hit the surface before the structural integrity totally fails!"
