Round 406

The walls of the ancient corridor shift and pulse with a sickening rhythm as Silra stumbles forward into the chamber. Each surface writhes with hungry tendrils that seem to reach out hungrily. The air grows thick with decay and something else—something ancient and terrifyingly alive. Jeane staggers back against the wall, feeling its surface pulse beneath her hands like a beating heart. Her own heartbeat syncs up with its rhythm almost instantly. The membrane feels warm and unnervingly alive.