Round 98

The ancient subway station flooded, turning their escape route into a death trap. Jeane clung to the compromised catwalk above, water lapping at her fingertips as she stared down at Silra below. The elf woman was dry on the narrow walkway but surrounded by rising waters—already chin-height in the tunnel proper, and climbing fast.

Silra's teal eyes remained fixed on her screens, fingers flying across holographic keys despite the growing panic around them. She'd managed to create a pocket of clean air using her technomancy, but every breath felt stolen now as the water rose past her knees, then her thighs. The entity's pressure was escalating—she could feel it in the way system defenses were responding, in the way her hacking tools strained against the corporate firewall.

"You're not seriously considering sacrificing them?" Jeane called down, voice tight with barely controlled panic. Her demonic nature didn't make her heartless, but cold logic worked better than human sentimentality when drowning was an option. "We don't even know if they're still alive down there."

Silra's jaw clenched, fingers never pausing on the keys. "I'm considering every option available," she snapped back, eyes still on code scrolling past too fast for mortal comprehension. "Including the ones I fucking hate." The water was up to her waist now, cold and relentless. She needed to complete this hack before the system reset—or worse, before the entity realized what she was doing and slammed the door shut entirely.

Jeane's crimson eyes blazed as she scanned the immediate area for anything useful—a handhold, an anchor point, a fucking miracle. The catwalk beneath her groaned ominously with every movement, structural integrity failing by degrees. She wasn't afraid of dying—demons didn't fear death the way mortals did—but drowning in this filthy water while Silra completed her hack felt like a particularly shitty end.

"Fine," she growled, shifting her grip to test another section of the catwalk. "Hack faster then. I'm not holding my breath waiting for you." She meant it as both literal truth and sarcastic jab—her lungs were already burning from exertion and fear. But Silra just nodded once, eyes never leaving her screens, fingers blurring with renewed intensity.

The water rose another inch. And then another. Time was running out for everyone involved.