Round 138

The building shuddered again, a long groan of stressed metal and cracking concrete that felt like a death rattle. The wardstone answered with its own pulse—faster now, insistent—and the spell in Jeane's hands writhed against her control, dark tendrils snapping out before she yanked them back in with a curse. The corridor beyond the barricade was absolute darkness, thick with the scent of water and something else... something wrong. "We have to move," Halie said, voice barely above a whisper but sharp with urgency. Her eyes were on Hera's back where the woman stood frozen near the unstable doorframe, mirror clutched like a shield. "The whole place is about to come down." Silra was already moving, boots splashing through the water pooling across the floorboards. She reached for her crossbow but her fingers hesitated—too many variables, too much darkness ahead. The wardstone pulsed again and Jeane's spell faltered, the barrier shimmering like heat haze before snapping back into place with a sound like tearing cloth. "Two minutes," she gasped, sweat beading on her forehead. "Maybe less. You two need to decide what you're doing before this whole fucking building collapses around us."