Round 81

The bathroom door frame creaked ominously as Silra stacked more bottles across it like some perverse dominos of impending doom. The wardstone pulsed again—two beats of death per structural shudder—as she felt every click like teeth snapping together. This barricade was fucking absurd—plastic bottles stacked along a door frame wouldn't stop concrete—but it might buy seconds they needed. Jeane braced against the tilting wall, her wings instinctively trying to flare before remembering there was nowhere to fly. The wardstone pulses were accelerating now, like some ancient heart beating them to death by seconds.

She grabbed Hera's wrist mid-pour. "Stop it. Pouring more lube just makes this worse—it's already slippery enough to break our fucking necks." Her crimson eyes fixed on the elf. "Silra, what the actual fuck is your plan here? Because stacking sex toys against a collapsing wall seems like peak stupidity even for you." Halie pressed herself against the opposite wall, her wide brown eyes fixed on the treacherous floor where water mixed with spilled lubricant....