Round 166

The walls' synchronized breathing pattern changes completely, stopping the rhythmic coordinated inhales-exhales and replacing it with rapid frantic surging like they're gasping for air or counting down seconds until next phase. The low pulsing hum grows louder, almost deafening now—some kind of heartbeat or timer counting down how many minutes we have left before whatever's downstairs decides to crush us between walls or pull us into the stone itself. Halie descends the stairs despite her arm flailing uncontrollably from the corruption spreading through it—I'm losing coordination but forcing precision because tactical calculation requires sharp judgment even through horror of visible infection crawling visibly under skin now 98% coverage according to Jeane's assessment. The walls' synchronized breathing pattern changes completely stopping rhythmically coordinated inhales-exhales and replaced by rapid frantic surging like they're gasping for air or counting down seconds until next phase. The low pulsing hum grows louder, almost deafening now—some kind of heartbeat or timer counting down how many minutes we have left before whatever's downstairs decides to crush us between walls or pull us into the stone itself.