Round 108

The walls' synchronized breathing stopped completely—everything except that low pulsing hum growing stronger like heartbeats counting down. Silra's teal eyes flicker across the space separating them, measuring every centimeter with rogue precision even as her right arm throbs in warning. The fungal growths crawling across the stone walls pulse faster now, their rhythm matching Jeane's own racing heartbeat with disturbing accuracy. She shifts her weight subtly, maintaining the exact five-meter gap between herself and the nearest creeping tendrils—close enough to coordinate but not close enough for the creeping corruption on her arms to spread further.

"I've recalculated," she says, voice barely carrying over the low thrum that seems to vibrate through every surface. "We have seventeen percent coverage on my arms—thirty-seven minutes before total systemic failure and permanent loss of function. The walls are breathing in sync with your heartbeat now which means whatever's downstairs isn't just tracking us but actively controlling the architecture as threat vector." Her gaze darts toward Halie's visibly straining divine magic. "We need to move fast—my condition is stable for now, but maintaining distance requires active effort against these pressure plates. Splitting the party now plays into enemy's hands by creating vulnerable targets they can pick off separately."

The grinding noise from below grows louder, more insistent—a mechanical beast preparing its next meal.