Round 207

Abby presses herself flat against the cold stone wall, her arms full of adult toys and lubricant bottles that clatter softly together. The binding tendril across her chest pulses erratically, its frequency shifting to a discordant note that seems to vibrate through the very stone around them. "Jeane?" she manages, voice tight with barely controlled panic. "What's happening? Why is the door opening now?" As if in answer, the glyphs along the door frame flare to aggressive life once more, casting harsh shadows that dance across Jeane's strained face. The tall winged woman stands between Abby and the ominous portal, dark wings spread wide in a show of defiance even as her body trembles with exhaustion. "Get back!" she snarls, both hands raised in a defensive posture. "We don't know what's waiting in there—could be more of those skeletal fucks or something worse." The stone door groans open with terrifying slowness, revealing darkness beyond stained by what looks disturbingly like dried seawater. Jeane's crimson eyes narrow as she watches the gap widen, wings beating slowly to maintain her balance. "Fuck," she mutters under her breath. "This is not good." The tendril pulses against her skin with renewed urgency, and she grits her teeth. "Stay close," she hisses through clenched jaws. "And whatever you do, don't let go of those supplies." The chamber continues to tilt slowly, spilling more debris towards them as the sound of rushing water grows louder—somewhere beyond that yawning portal.