Chara has enough time to curse, and then the dog's upon them, much faster than before. This was a mistake; they should have taken the chance to run again.

They instinctively step, and instinctively attack, and both are useless; the dog rams into their chest and they go flying, skidding across the floor of the hall in a trail of sparks until they're forcibly halted by the end of it. They lie still, crumpled. Their breathing is wheezing, strained.

Somehow, they still have a bulldog grip on their weapons, the fire of the torch having been smeared to near-extinguishment but they're not getting up again any time soon.

You won!