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Much as Annabelle's imagination would have loved it to be otherwise, Carpenter would have been a poor rope to use in getting up the tower. The little familiar was flexible and quick, but not very good at maintaining shape when it came down to tugging a whole human body straight upwards. Not at the length that was needed, anyways.

Thankfully Cecilia was well ahead of her and came with rope of her own. As Artemisia was still mounted, Annabelle took it upon herself to be up the rope first. Grabbing hold, she worked her way up, hand and foot. Carpenter suddenly morphed into a long, twisting shape, snaking up the rope much faster than she could ever hope to climb as a mere mortal.

When she had finally made it up, Annabelle huffed. No doubt such an inefficient modem of climbing was tougher on her stamina than if she'd simply had the ability to magically leap, like Cecilia. That would be nice to have. She stood herself up after pulling onto the platform, dusting her hands of the abrasion from her grip. As she turned, stepping away from the ledge, she found herself gazing out over the ruined city. They'd been a long way, and no doubt there were many others still gunning for the prize. At least being off the streets meant they'd be far safer from further interruption.