Round 220

The walls' breathing pattern stopped completely—everything except that low pulsing hum growing stronger like a heartbeat counting down seconds until the next adaptation phase. My fingers twitched uncontrollably now, grip strength nearly zero—I couldn't wield weapons effectively anyway so must rely on others for protection while maintaining distance. Forward movement split defensive capabilities between these corridors, and I needed to stay away from those surfaces or risk accelerating my own corruption through contact.