Round 111 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 keep my hand on the door barricade. The wood groans under the building's strain—it won't hold much longer. Jeane is bleeding again from those stupid cuts on her hands and keeps glancing at the wardstone like a kid staring into a cake display. We need to move before this whole floor pancakes down onto whatever's below, or worse, that thing gets out through us.

The bathroom door groans and buckles as the building strains against itself. Jeane's hands are slick with blood from gripping the mirror frame barricade. I can see the fear in everyone's eyes - we're out of time. The wardstone pulses faster, sending shockwaves through my body. I know we can't wait here any longer, no matter how terrified we are to face what's beyond that door. "We have to move NOW," I shout over the roar of the collapsing structure. "On three - one, two..."

Halie's hands ache against the barricade; she can feel every pulse of that wardstone through the wood, a sickening rhythm made worse by Jeane's bleeding grip beside her. The building groans like a dying beast above them. We're running out of time—the barricade won't hold much longer, and I'm not sure how long I can shield us from whatever that thing is. She turns to Hera across the flooding floor, voice tight but even: "Hera, listen. Whatever happens next, you stay behind me. If this door gives way, I'll take the brunt—you focus on getting out alive."