Round 75 Transcript

As Jeane yanks Halie back onto solid ground, the water rushing past their legs, Silra finally manages to extend the blind spot, casting a brief, flickering glow over the catwalk. The corrupted figures at the end of the corridor recoil, momentarily blinded by the light. However, the reprieve is short-lived; with only 30 seconds left on the countdown timer, the water pumps below kick into high gear, and the floodwaters surge forward, threatening to engulf the trio. The sound of rushing water grows louder, and the catwalk creaks ominously as the pressure increases. Jeane's eyes lock onto Silra, her expression a mix of urgency and warning: "Silra, can you—"

The water surges forward once more, this time reaching just below their knees, and Halie stumbles, her foot slipping on the slick metal grating.

Jeane's dark eyes narrow as she watches Silra frantically typing, her screens flickering wildly while barely holding their blind spot together. The sound of rushing water grows louder with each passing second—30 seconds left on that countdown timer, and the floodwaters are already at our shins, rising fast. I shouldn't care about Halie's near-fall or Silra's struggle to extend the blind spot in time. This was supposed to be a simple data theft mission, not a suicide run against corporate security theater with extra steps and bad lighting. But if we lose either of them now—if that innocent little cleric gets dragged into those waters by whatever corrupted monstrosities are waiting at the end of this catwalk or if our tech specialist fails us in her most crucial moment—I'll be down two valuable assets when I need them most. The floodwaters lap against my thighs as I lunge forward, wings beating hard for balance. "Silra! You've got 25 seconds—make them count!" My eyes lock onto Halie where she's clinging to the railing after her near-slip. She looks disoriented but unharmed physically at least—that shield magic of hers is still flickering weakly around her, though barely holding together under this constant magical strain. I don't have time for hesitation or moral debates right now—not when every second counts and our escape route is flooding faster than a leaky demonic cauldron. We need to decide: push forward into whatever horror show waits at the end of this catwalk while Silra finishes extending that blind spot, or retreat back through the rising waters toward the maintenance tunnel we just came from. The corrupted figures at the far end of the corridor have stopped advancing now that Silra's extended our blind spot—momentary reprieve granted by technical expertise rather than brute force. But that won't last long if these floodwaters keep rising at this rate. We're already knee-deep in cold water, and those pumps below sound like they've just kicked into overdrive. I glance back along the catwalk behind us—the way we came is flooding too, but not as fast as this main corridor. If we retreat now, we might buy ourselves enough time to regroup and reassess without being immediately overwhelmed by rising waters or whatever fresh hell awaits at the end of this hallway. But retreating means leaving behind that modified data chip with stolen corporate secrets—our entire mission objective just floating away in a subterranean flood because Silra couldn't extend her blind spot fast enough. That's not an option I'm willing to entertain if I can help it. Unless... what if there's another way? What if instead of pushing forward into danger or retreating empty-handed, we could find some middle ground? Use this momentary reprieve from those corrupted figures to quickly scout ahead and determine exactly what—or who—we're dealing with before committing fully? I channel a small amount of dark energy into my hands, shaping it into barely visible tendrils that I send slithering forward along the ceiling of the corridor. If there are security cameras or sensors beyond our current blind spot, these magical extensions should be able to detect them—and if there are active threats still waiting ahead, they might reveal those too. While my spell probes forward, I keep one eye on Silra and her frantic typing, another on Halie clinging to the railing with her shield magic flickering. We need a decision—now—but it has to be an informed one if we want to survive this clusterfuck of corporate security theater with our assets intact. The water's up to my thighs now as I stand here considering options, cold and rising fast. Every second that passes feels like sand slipping through hourglass fingers—30 seconds left on that countdown timer when we started this conversation, which means we've already burned 15 seconds just standing here debating our next move instead of acting. I hate being rushed like this. Hate feeling like we're playing into their hands no matter which option we choose. But hating it doesn't change the situation—water's rising, timer's counting down, and Silra still looks like she might not make that blind spot permanent before the system resets in 15 seconds. Fine. If we can't decide between forward or back within the next few moments, I'll make the call myself—but first let me see what those magical probes discover up ahead. Maybe there's a third option we've been too panicked to notice—some narrow window for reconnaissance that lets us gather intel without fully committing either way. The dark tendrils slither along the ceiling, extending our visual range beyond the flickering edge of Silra's extended blind spot. If there are hidden cameras or sensors up ahead, my spell should detect them—and if those corrupted figures have friends waiting in ambush, my magic extensions might spot movement or thermal signatures that human eyes would miss. While I wait for the results from my magical probes, I fix both Halie and Silra with an impatient glare. "Well? Are either of you about to say something useful or just stand there looking terrified while our escape route floods around us?" The water sloshes around my thighs as I shift balance on the slick metal grating—already slippery from floodwaters, soon to be even more treacherous if we don't make a decision soon.

I grit my teeth against the rising water, screens flickering with warnings. "Another thirty seconds isn't enough to rewrite core protocols—this security grid wasn't designed for this kind of brute force." The blind spot wavers around us as I strain to hold it together; it's like trying to keep a soap bubble intact in a hurricane. Jeane can throw magic all she wants, but without systematic access, we're just pissing into the wind here. I glance at Halie clinging to the railing—at least she's still conscious and upright after that near-fall. We need options beyond 'forward' or 'back,' because both paths lead us straight into more trouble. The maintenance tunnel behind us is flooding too, but slower than this main corridor; if we retreat now, we might survive physically but lose the data chip forever in these rising waters. And if we push forward into whatever's waiting at the end of this hallway, we'll be fighting blind and bogged down by flood damage—worse position strategically speaking. So what are our actual choices here? Option one: abandon the mission completely, cut our losses, and retreat to higher ground while still alive but empty-handed. That option sucks for obvious reasons, but it keeps us breathing which is more than I can say for charging into whatever nightmare scenario awaits around that next bend. Option two: attempt a desperate hack on the move while retreating through rising waters—risky as fuck since even slight distraction will collapse this blind spot completely and expose us to whatever's coming from both directions. That might work if we had more time or better footing, but trying to coordinate complex spellwork while ankle-deep in freezing floodwater with monsters closing in sounds like a recipe for disaster. Option three: stall here long enough to buy Halie recovery time while I finish extending this blind spot—assuming it's even possible under these conditions—but that requires keeping Jeane from doing something monumentally stupid like charging forward into the darkness or trying to drain the entire fucking subway system single-handedly with magic. She looks about two seconds away from losing what little patience she has left, and when that happens, things tend to get messy fast whether it helps our situation or not. I redirect some power flow through my neural interface, keeping one eye on the code scrolling past while addressing Jeane directly. "If you're planning something suicidal, save it for after I finish extending this blind spot—right now we need coordinated retreat, not solo heroics." The water's already up to mid-thigh and still rising; if we don't move soon, our options will narrow even further. I hate being rushed like this, but sometimes you have to make do with shitty timing and inadequate resources—that's what fieldwork is all about when you're not blessed with unlimited magical firepower or divine intervention on demand. "We go back through the maintenance tunnel—slow retreat while I maintain the blind spot behind us, Halie in the center where she can keep her shield up, Jeane bringing up rear to cover our six." It's not ideal, but it's a plan that keeps everyone alive and buys us time to reassess once we're out of immediate flooding range. "Unless you've got a better idea that doesn't involve drowning or dying for nothing? Clock's ticking—tell me now or prepare to get wet."