They bolted from the chamber after the unholy sight of those abominations forming, fleeing through the cavern as the creatures stirred and began to follow.
Luckily, they had Lysithea. Without her, Finn and Seraphina would've gotten lost and eaten five times over already.
She led them deeper, always certain of her path, saying that the exit lay ahead. Finn clung to that hope like a starving man clutching bread. Seraphina, ever skeptical, still found herself trusting Lysithea—after all, she'd saved their lives again and again, and very, very… protective of Finn.
The trek was long and excruciating. Backtracking. Hiding. Skirmishes with twisted slime-beasts. Finn was completely sick of it. His body ached, his sanity frayed. All he wanted was to see sunlight again, feel the breeze, and hear Majestria complain in his ear while forcing him to carry her useless butt around. Even that sounded heavenly compared to this hellhole.
