Round 180

The stone walls' synchronized exhalation stops mid-breath, replaced by a low resonant hum that vibrates through the corridor like a living heartbeat counting down seconds until whatever comes next. Halie's fingers hover mere centimeters from the glowing seam in the rock—her right arm now a grotesque sculpture of corrupted flesh, twitching with a mind of its own and clearly hungry for more. Jeane's voice trembles with barely contained panic. "Stop! Don't touch it!" Her wings beat frantically, struggling against the gravity shift and arcane strain. The flame resistance that protects her drops below 43%—visible in the flickering instability of her aura as she fights to maintain altitude above the grinding pressure plates. Abby presses herself against the far wall, maintaining strict twelve-meter distance from both Halie and Jeane. "What's happening? Why did they stop breathing?" Her wide brown eyes reflect the walls' eerie glow as she clutches her clipboard tightly. The seam in the wall flares brighter, casting flickering shadows across the corridor. The pressure plates continue their slow grinding motion, plates scraping against each other with deliberate menace.