Round 71 Transcript

At bathroom in a New York high rise penthouse suite, the pressure shifts from waiting to immediate risk. The ward answers the party's presence with a fresh pulse through the stone and no one can mistake it for safety. The nearest sign of danger is now structural collapse imminent. Someone has to answer that change now.

I press myself against the cold tile wall of the bathroom, my heart hammering so hard I feel dizzy. The water from the broken shower stall sloshes around my ankles, and I can see my own reflection in the mirror behind me, pale and wide-eyed with fear.
The building groans again, a sound like an angry beast rattling its chains, and I flinch. It feels like death itself is right outside this door, waiting to take us all. My mind races as I try to think of a way out, but every path forward seems blocked by the looming presence of the wardstone in the hall.
Jeane's reckless behavior led us here, and now Hera is trying to hold the door shut against the increasing pressure. I can see her muscles straining as she pushes against the wood, her face a mask of concentration and terror. She looks so strong right now, but I know it’s only a matter of time before something gives way.
I watch Hera struggle for a moment longer before my gaze is drawn back to the wardstone outside the frosted glass window in the door. It pulses with a sickening rhythm, like a heartbeat that doesn’t belong to anything human. Every beat sends another jolt of fear through my body.

I grab Hera's wrist as she lunges for the door handle again—her hands are shaking too badly—and pull her back against my chest. The wardstone pulses faster now, answering Silra's approach with thick wrong energy that crawls across my skin like oil. I can feel it through the bathroom door—the building groans overhead, a sound like tearing metal and cracking bone. "We don't touch it," I say sharply to Silra. "That thing is why this building is coming down around our ears. We find another way."

I turn Hera to face me, grip her shoulders tight enough that she stops shaking. Her eyes are wide with fear but clear—she's not panicking yet, which is more than I can say for half the people I've dealt with in situations like this. "We're securing this door," I tell her. "You and me. Right now."