Round 62

The ancient subway station groaned like a dying beast as more water poured in through unseen cracks and channels. Jeane's ice spell had slowed the flow but not stopped it—her crimson eyes darted between Silra's frantic typing and the steadily rising liquid level lapping at their knees. The tall succubus woman shifted her weight, dark wings half-spread for balance on the shifting platform. "Thirty seconds," she growled, more to herself than to anyone else. "Give me thirty damn seconds or I swear by all the data gods that your next software update will be riddled with my little surprises."

Silra barely acknowledged the threat, her teal eyes locked onto scrolling code and system alerts. Her slim fingers moved across multiple interfaces simultaneously, a blur of motion even to trained observers. "Shut up and let me work," she snapped without looking up from her screens. The water had already soaked through her expensive boots twice now; she could feel the cold seepage around her knees but couldn't spare the attention to dry off again. The corporate security systems were failing fast—she needed to plant this backdoor before they fully locked down or all their efforts would be wasted.

The platform shifted beneath them with a loud crack, and fresh water gushed from a new fissure near the wall. Jeane cursed under her breath, her patience fraying. "Fine," she hissed, "but we're not staying here to drown while you play with your toys." Her wings beat once more, creating a small vortex that pushed back against the rising tide for a few precious seconds. It wasn't much, but it was something—enough to buy maybe another minute?.