Round 335

The humming intensified, vibrating through the stone underfoot now. Each pressure plate pulsed with its own rhythm, syncopated against the walls' creeping patterns. Forward meant stairs and whatever horrors waited at the bottom—probably worse than this. Back meant the chamber, the sybian, the temporary safety of their shared flesh. But every second counted. Three hours until Silra was consumed completely.

The walls flexed again, closer this time. She met Hera's eyes in the dim light. No words needed. They moved as one, stepping onto the plates with calculated precision. The stone groaned beneath their weight—then held. For now.