Round 123

Jeane slammed her palm against the wall hard enough that the plaster cracked, leaving a perfect imprint of her hand in the drywall. The sound echoed through the corridor like a gunshot, momentarily silencing everyone present.

"Enough!" Her voice cut through the groaning of the building and the pulsing of the wardstone with an authority that demanded attention. "We don't have time for panic or foolish ideas." She fixed Hera with a glare that could have curdled milk at twenty paces. "Put down the mirror, step back, and let me handle this."

Silra opened her mouth to speak, but Jeane silenced her with a single look. The elf's words died on her lips, replaced by a thin line of irritation.

"Hera," Jeane continued, her voice softening just enough to sound almost reasonable, "you're in the way. Move." The human woman hesitated for just a moment before scrambling back against the opposite wall, her movements clumsy with fear.

Jeane closed her eyes, taking a deep breath that did nothing to calm the storm inside her. Her demon blood sang with alarm, every pulse of the wardstone sending fresh waves of corruption through her system. The barrier spell she'd cast earlier was holding—barely—but it wouldn't last much longer. She needed to end this quickly, before her control slipped entirely.

"Silra," she said, opening her eyes to fix the rogue with a look that promised violence if she argued, "I need you to find the main structural supports for this hallway. There has to be something holding up the floor above us." The elf hesitated for just a moment too long. "Now."

Silra moved without further argument, her hands tracing along the ceiling and walls with practiced efficiency. Jeane turned back to Hera, who was watching her with wide, terrified eyes.

"You're going to help me," she said, not leaving room for debate. "We're going to reinforce this barrier before it fails completely." She gestured to the doorframe where the wardstone pulsed, its energy bleeding through the wood like heat from an open furnace. "And then we're going to deal with that thing properly."

Hera nodded, her face pale but determined. Good girl, Jeane thought, forcing a smile she didn't feel.

The building groaned again overhead, louder this time. A shower of dust and plaster rained down from the ceiling, settling on their shoulders like ash from a volcano. Time was running out.

Jeane took another deep breath, focusing every ounce of her will into maintaining the barrier spell. The wardstone pulsed faster now, each beat a countdown measured in seconds rather than minutes. She could feel the corruption seeping through her defenses, caressing her demonic nature with promises of power and destruction.

Not yet, she told herself, gritting her teeth against the temptation. Not until I have control again.

But the building had other plans. With a sound like a mountain cracking, the floor beneath their feet shifted dramatically. The makeshift barricade of heavy mirror slid several inches across the slick surface before Jeane slammed her boot against it, holding it in place with sheer force of will.

"Everyone back!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the sudden cacophony of groaning metal and cracking concrete. "Now!"

Hera scrambled backward, tripping over her own feet in her haste to obey. Silra was already moving, her hands still pressed against the wall as if searching for structural weaknesses.

Jeane stood her ground, both hands planted on the barricade as she fought to maintain control of her spell and the situation simultaneously. The wardstone pulsed again—faster—and she felt something inside her snap just a little.

This was going to get messy.