Round 345

The walls' rhythm changed, the pulsing energy shifting from a steady beat to something more insistent, more demanding. Abby felt it in her bones, a low thrum that seemed to vibrate through the very stone around them. She tried to pull her hand back from Silra's grip, but the creature held firm, its fingers digging into her skin with an unsettling gentleness.

"Listen," Silra said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The walls are singing now. Can't you hear it?" Abby strained her ears, trying to discern what the other woman was talking about. All she could hear was the sound of her own ragged breathing and the pounding of blood in her ears.

"I don't... I don't hear anything," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. She glanced around at the writhing walls, their surface glistening with that same sickly green light as before. The sight made her stomach turn, and she had to suppress a wave of nausea.

"Stay close," Silra instructed, her eyes never leaving the shifting stone. "The further we go from this room, the less... predictable things become." Abby nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure what that meant. She knew only one thing for certain—she didn't want to be alone in this place.