Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits.

Gabe could feel the barrier buckling under the strain, his arms trembling as the force of the slabs pushed harder with every second. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his breath came in ragged gasps, but through it all, he kept his focus. He had to. For Mariam.

He saw her on the other side now, wedging a stone into the gap. Her voice cut through the haze of his concentration, and he couldn’t help but smirk despite the tension.

You never could follow a simple plan, could ya, love? he called out, his voice strained but laced with affection. Typical Mariam—always ready to throw herself into the fire for him. He wouldn't have it any other way.

With a final surge of energy, Gabe pushed the magic out, forcing the slabs to shudder, just enough for him to slip through. His body moved before his mind could catch up, diving through the narrow gap with seconds to spare. As he hit the ground, he felt the barrier collapse behind him, the slabs slamming shut with a deafening thud.

For a brief moment, all was still. Gabe lay there, panting, staring up at the dim ceiling above them. He couldn’t quite believe they’d made it. Then, with a grunt, he rolled onto his back and looked up at Mariam.

Well, that was a bit of a close one, eh?

@Mariam DeTyne