Round 389

The stone passage breathed around them now, each exhale a low groan that vibrated the very air. The walls had rearranged themselves—purposefully this time, creating a narrow channel that pointed directly toward the thing waiting at the foot of the stairs. Its dark eyes gleamed with predatory patience, and Jeane found herself frozen mid-step, legs refusing to obey her mind's command. Silra's fingers still gripped her neck, the angel's light pulsing in sync with the corruption that now coursed through both their bodies.

The creature spoke again, its voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate from deep within the stone itself. "Open yourself," it commanded, and Jeane felt something fundamental shift inside her—some barrier of will or soul giving way under the pressure of that simple command. The walls' breathing intensified, each exhale carrying them closer to the stairs whether they wanted to descend or not.