Round 137

Silra's iron grip yanked Jeane through the rising water with desperate force, every muscle screaming protest. The electrical conduit corridor had become a death trap—water was climbing fast, and those arcs between conduits were growing more aggressive by the heartbeat. A chunk of concrete detached from the ceiling overhead, plummeting past Silra's shoulder before smashing into the water mere feet away.

"Fuck me sideways, I'm freezing my demonic tits off here!" Jeane shrieked, her teeth chattering so hard the words barely formed coherent syllables. Her shield magic flickered like a dying candle flame, visible through her translucent skin—barely 10% integrity remained, blue light pulsing weakly around her nude form. "My fingers are like ice cubes and this shield magic is about to implode completely—you've got maybe ten seconds before it fails at 0% integrity and we both get fried by those arcs or drowned trying. Pull us through that access panel NOW, Silra!" She clutched a small heating stone in one trembling hand, but the magical item barely made a dent against tunnel-wide hypothermia.

I pulled her closer through the rising water, her shield flickering at near-transparency—10% integrity meant we had maybe three minutes before total collapse or electrical discharge cooked us both. Her skin was blue from exposure already, but I couldn't afford gentleness right now; every second counted as we pushed toward that access panel marked on my mental map. The water pressure built around my thighs, constricting movement in wet clothes that felt like ice against skin.

"On it," I grunted through clenched teeth, adjusting grip to drag her weight more efficiently. "Just... hold your fucking breath and don't let go of that stone." The next electrical discharge arced between us and the opposite wall, close enough to make my hair stand on end despite being already soaked. Time was running out faster than the water rising around us—had to move, had to adapt, or we'd both die in this flooded hellhole.