Round 263

The walls' breathing sped up as the pressure plate activated, their symbols pulsing with hungry light. Abby stumbled back, Hera's foot still planted on the trigger. The air thickened with corruption, making it hard to breathe. They needed something—a weapon, an escape route, anything—but the chamber was smooth and featureless except for those shifting, mocking symbols. The walls began to close in, movements purposeful and hungry. Time was running out.

They had to keep moving before whatever this thing was fully manifested.