Round 342

Silra's grip on your hand tightens as she feels the walls begin to shift around them, the once-synchronized breathing now erratic and disturbing. The low hum in the air grows more insistent, pulsing like a heartbeat counting down seconds until the next phase of this nightmare. "We need to move," she hisses urgently, her yellow eyes fixed on the dark opening that's just appeared in the wall behind you both. "That passage... it's not natural. Something's calling us down." Her skin feels fever-hot against yours, and you can see a faint, sickly green glow beginning to creep along her arms—signs of the corruption taking hold faster now. "Abby, listen to me," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper but somehow cutting through the ambient horror. "I don't know how much longer I can... resist this. If we separate, you'll be safer. Find Jeane, find help." But even as she says it, her fingers intertwine more tightly with yours, refusing to let go.