Round 15

Halie's hand pressed against the wardstone felt its pulse like a trapped heartbeat, steady now and insistent. The building groaned around them—not distant thunder anymore but something closer, more insistent, like the sound of old bones shifting under strain. She could feel it in her teeth, this pressure building. "Jeane, Silra—I don't think we have time for elaborate plans," Halie said, pulling her hand back quickly. "If this thing is responding to our... activities... then we need to ground it out, find ways to redirect that energy before the whole damn building collapses."

Jeane stepped closer to Silra near the wardstone, feeling its pulse beneath her boots—a steady beat now, less like distant thunder and more like a warning drum. The building groaned around them like an old ship straining at anchor, and she didn't need Silra's rogue senses to know they were pushing limits. "What do you mean 'seismic sensor for lust?'" she asked, though part of...

Hera's breath caught as she took in the scene before her. The wardstone pulsed ominously, its energy seeping into the very foundations of the building. Halie's words echoed in her mind: ground it out, find ways to redirect that energy. Her gaze darted between Jeane and Silra, two women she barely knew but who seemed to be at the center of this strange situation. Hera took a step forward, then hesitated.

Silra looked at the wardstone again, felt the rhythm under her boots. It was no geological fluke—this thing was pulsing like a damn heart. She glanced at Jeane, then at Hera who'd stepped out from the shadows looking both terrified and... what, excited? "You," she said to the civilian woman, "whatever you touched off earlier with that wardstone, it didn't turn off." The building groaned again, louder this time—as if the very structure was aroused by their predicament.