Round 206

The sudden burst of steam caught them both off guard—Jeane stumbling backward as her demonic wings spread instinctively, Silra yelping in surprise even as her pointed ears flattened defensively against her head. The malfunctioning heating unit had spewed forth not just hot air but a small metallic device that clattered onto the floor between them—a miniature keycard reader now glowing with an ominous blue light.

"Authorization successful? Access granted?" Silra's voice cut through the dissipating steam, sharp and suspicious despite her lingering hypothermia tremors. She circled the malfunctioning unit like a cat stalking prey, her teal eyes narrowing as she examined every inch of the exposed machinery. "That sounds less like corporate incompetence and more like someone deliberately setting up a fun little trap for curious intruders."

Jeane's crimson eyes blazed with defiance even as she fought to maintain her failing shield magic—each flicker of the compromised spell sending shivers through her voluptuous frame that had nothing to do with the residual cold. "Fun? I'd call this attempted murder by scalding, you unfeeling elf." But despite her words, she found herself moving closer to Silra's heat signature, drawn by a desperate need for warmth that overrode even her growing frustration with the silver-blonde technomancer's clinical detachment.

"Maybe it's not a trap," Jeane suggested, voice tight but hopeful. "Maybe it's... an invitation? To somewhere warmer?" Her demonic nature stirred at the thought—somewhere warm enough to restore her shield magic fully, where she might finally convince Silra that her 'treatments' needed to be more... aggressive.

Silra shot Jeane a look that suggested she found the idea of an invitation highly dubious. "Or maybe it's both—a trap disguised as an invitation." She knelt beside the miniature reader, careful not to touch it directly as she studied its glowing interface. "Either way, we need to know what this thing actually does before we trigger whatever comes next."

The blue light from the device pulsed rhythmically, each beat seeming to draw a matching flicker from Jeane's failing shield magic. The air around them grew warmer—either from the malfunctioning heating unit or something more sinister lurking beyond the junction ahead. Jeane felt her demonic constitution responding hungrily to the increased temperature, even as suspicion warred with need for survival.

"Fine," she hissed, forcing herself to stand straighter despite the magical drain. "But if this kills us both, I'm holding you personally responsible for my untimely demise."