Round 87

The catwalk groaned beneath their combined weight, each plank seeming to protest the strain as floodwaters lapped hungrily at its underside. Halie's shield magic sputtered once more, her eyes widening in alarm as she hissed a warning: "Ten seconds left." Jeane fought the instinct to beat her wings for stability, knowing the slightest misjudgment could send them all plummeting into the icy embrace below. Instead, she concentrated on maintaining balance, muscles taut beneath pale skin as the water sloshed past her mouth, making breathing difficult even through flared nostrils.

"Five seconds," Silra called out, fingers flying across her interface screens with practiced urgency. The water level rose another inch, its surface churning with increasing ferocity as floodwaters surged forward like a living thing tasting their fear. Suddenly, a faint humming noise echoed through the ancient subway station—ominous and growing louder by the second.

Jeane snapped her wings tight against her back despite the urge to beat them, every muscle screaming for release as she fought to maintain balance on the swaying catwalk section. The water sloshed past her mouth making breathing difficult even through nostrils, while Halie's shield collapsing meant they were exposed now, every second counting before the flood consumed them completely or worse arrived from above.

"Fold with me," Silra barked, voice tight despite maintaining its usual cool mask as she jammed both hands against holographic keys. "We cross now as unit or we drown in formation." Her teal eyes flickered between Halie's collapsing shield and Jeane's folded wings—both choices had teeth but time was bleeding out like a slit throat behind them.

"I'm not leaving you," came the reply, barely audible over rushing water and increasing hum. "Just... give me one more second to stabilize this thing."

"Second's up." Silra didn't wait for confirmation before launching forward across the catwalk, boots finding precarious purchase on each swaying plank as she moved with practiced grace despite rising panic. The water was already past her jawline when she reached the midpoint, cold fingers seeming to grasp at her exposed skin beneath modern black streetwear.

Jeane followed close behind, wings half-extended now for balance rather than flight—each beat risked destabilizing the entire structure but moving across this death trap might get them to solid ground before drowning in controlled fashion here waiting for arrest. The water climbed relentlessly as they moved, her voluptuous frame struggling with the narrow footing even as muscular control kept her upright through sheer force of will.

"Halie!" Silra called back, voice strained but steady. "You're up next—whatever shield fragments are left, even if it's just a bubble of hope between collapses. Jeane covers our six with those wings ready but folded unless we..."

The humming grew louder still, and something massive shifted in the corridor beyond where ominous figures remained stationed despite rising floodwaters. Time was up—they had to move now or die trying.