Round 168

The walls' synchronized breathing stopped completely—everything except that low pulsing hum growing stronger like a heartbeat counting down seconds until next adaptation phase. Suddenly, a section of the wall slides open, revealing a narrow crevice between plates grinding together more rapidly now, 2 seconds before structural collapse.

Jeane's fingers brush against mine in the tight space, sending a cold chill through me but not spreading corruption immediately, thank fuck. Her arm is clearly failing coordination now, flailing uncontrollably, and yet she descends those stairs deliberately, calculating every movement with terrifying precision despite visible panic in her crimson eyes.

Halie's voice cuts through the grinding stone: "The walls are actively controlling this architecture—intelligent corruption that adapts to divine magic and learns ward patterns might be impossible to fully purge. Physical contact might accelerate corruption spread—maintaining distance is necessary but tactical challenge in tight space." Her corrupted arm twitches uncontrollably as she speaks, fingers spasming in mid-air.

The pressure plates grind together more aggressively now, 1 second before crush death. The rhythmic hum grows louder, almost deafening, as if urging them forward into whatever new trap awaits beyond that sliding wall panel.