Round 63 Transcript

<beat>
Silra, ignoring the pulse, instructs, "Hera, Abby, get into the bathroom down the hall. We need to be out of here when the structure gives up." She turns to Jeane and Halie, her eyes locked on the wardstone. "I'm tracing the edges now. If I can find a weak point, we might be able to—"
Jeane cuts in, her voice low and urgent. "We need to move, Silra. The floor is going to give out any second. We can't risk getting trapped." She grabs Halie's arm, pulling her toward the bathroom as well. </beat>

As they move, the walls creak and groan around them, the sound of the dying building's final gasp echoing through the penthouse suite. The wardstone's pulse grows stronger, its energy coursing through the air like a living thing. Suddenly, a section of the floor gives way beneath Silra's foot, sending her stumbling. <consequence>
The group is now in the bathroom, with the wardstone's pulse growing stronger and the building's structural instability worsening. </consequence>

<complication>
The bathroom's shower stall has become a makeshift door, trapping Abby against the wall. The stall's glass door is now cracked, and water is pouring in from the broken seal. </complication>

<pressure>
Silra must decide how to proceed, considering the group's safety and the wardstone's growing energy. </pressure>

Hera's heart pounds as she clings to Abby, her eyes wide with fear. The building groans and shudders around them, the wardstone's pulsing energy seeming to reverberate through the very walls. "I don't understand any of this," Hera whispers, voice trembling. "How can that stone be alive?" She presses closer to Jeane, seeking reassurance even as the sorcerer's tension radiates off her in waves. "What do we do now?"

I don't have time for this shit. Halie, your faith is admirable but useless here—whatever's under our feet isn't responding to prayer requests. Sixty seconds until this floor decides it hates us. Silra! Stop caressing that thing and tell me what you're learning. And someone get Hera the fuck out of my sight before she hyperventilates on me.

I trace the wardstone's edges with my fingers, ignoring the pulse that makes my skin crawl. It isn't simple magic—the thing has intent, responds like something alive and angry. The bathroom walls feel thin now, too fragile. Get Hera and Abby into the hallway bathroom. Now. Before this floor decides it hates us more than it already does. We have maybe three minutes before whatever's holding this place up gives out completely. Jeane, keep them calm and moving. Halie—if you're going to pray for answers, do it walking backward. And don't touch that stone unless you want your hands fused permanently to cursed marble.