Round 110 Transcript

Jeane's makeshift barricade holds for a moment longer, but the pressure is too great. The wardstone energy surges through Halie's hands, causing her to cry out as she loses her grip on the mirror frame. It crashes to the floor with a loud clang, shattering into a thousand pieces. Water from the broken shower stall pours in, flooding the room and making it difficult for Silra to keep her footing on the slippery floor. She stumbles, but manages to regain her balance, her eyes fixed on Jeane's hands as they bleed profusely from the door handle. The sound of creaking metal fills the air, and the bathroom door begins to buckle under the strain. The wardstone energy pulses faster now, and the air in the room seems to vibrate with its power.

I'm holding this barricade together through sheer will and whatever faith I have left in us all staying alive more than two minutes at a time. The wardstone is pulsing like a sick heartbeat now—faster every minute—and my palms are burning where they press against the wood frame even with this mirror between us. Hera's sitting on the floor behind me, trying to look brave but I can see her hands shaking from here. Silra's got lockpicks out again like that's going to fix structural failure physics, and Jeane just keeps bleeding on the door handle because she won't stop touching it long enough for the wounds to heal. We need a plan that doesn't involve waiting here until we're buried alive or corrupted by whatever's under that door. My arms are getting tired from holding this thing up—it's not stable, it never was—and I can feel every groan in the building through my teeth now like it's screaming at us to leave. The water from the shower keeps rising too. Soon it'll be deep enough to swim out of here if we had anywhere to swim TO except that dark corridor beyond where the wardstone energy is strongest. I don't want to die today, especially not while holding a barricade against something evil while my friend bleeds herself dry trying to prove she's tougher than physics. Someone say something useful before this whole situation becomes a choice between suffocation and corruption because we ran out of time for clever solutions.