Round 58

Jeane descended the first step with calculated precision, her crimson eyes fixed on the stone beneath her feet. The living rock shifted violently in response, causing her to stumble slightly. A pungent, acidic scent filled the air, making her eyes water and her wings twitch reflexively. Silra's teal gaze flickered up from her mapping, concern evident in her expression.

"Jeane, are you—?" she began, but Halie's blue-grey eyes flashed a warning, silencing her instantly. The first step's sigil disarmed with a soft click, the sound barely audible over the shifting stone and pulsing energies around them.

Silra dropped into a combat-crouch mid-descent, her fingers finding purchase on jagged stone as she mapped handholds in her mind like a digital schematic. "FUCK—this is exactly what I warned against," she growled, palm scraping raw against rough edge. The ground bucks beneath them like a live wire—"

Halie's hands tightened around her holy symbol—the pulsing white light casting stark shadows across the shifting stone walls. This is exactly what they want: us separated, vulnerable on these stairs while whatever's below prepares its reception. She leaned forward slightly—trying to see past Jeane and Silra down into the darkness below where faint blue glows suggested active magic waiting. If we're going to do this, let's at least maintain formation until we're all committed.