Round 28

The wardstone pulsed again—green light throbbing in time with the building's groan. It was getting worse fast. Each beat of that thing felt like a fist on the structure's ribs. Jeane was right: it wasn't stopping, and now it wanted more than just our attention.

I pulled my hand away, wiping it on my pants as if I could wipe off whatever that stone had pushed into me. "It doesn't want us to stop," I said, voice sharp and low. "It wants...something else. Something more direct." The stone's hunger was clear now—not for knowledge, not for sacrifice, but for a very specific kind of energy.

The building creaked louder, protesting the strain. We had maybe minutes before something gave way completely. The wardstone needed feeding, and it didn't care what kind—it would take whatever we offered, willing or unwilling. The question was whether we could control how it fed, or if we'd just become part of the wreckage.

I looked at Jeane, then Hera, my expression grim but determined. "We need to give it what it wants," I said, even as my stomach twisted with revulsion and fear. "But we do this on our terms. We control it." The stone pulsed again, sending another wave of pressure through the room. Time was running out fast.