Round 164 Transcript

At dark corridor in 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 brace my back against the wall, my heart pounding in my chest as I listen to the ominous creaking of the structure above us. The air is thick with tension and the acrid smell of magic. Halie's words ring in my ears - we need something solid to brace this door. My eyes dart around the dimly lit corridor, searching for anything that could serve as a makeshift barrier. I spot a large metal filing cabinet pushed against the far wall. It's not ideal, but it might buy us some time. "I'll see if I can move that filing cabinet," I call out, my voice trembling slightly. "It might help brace the door."

I take a deep breath and push myself off the wall, my feet slipping on the slick floor as I make my way towards the cabinet. The wardstone pulses in the distance, its energy seeming to grow stronger with each step. As I reach for the handle of the filing cabinet, I feel a sudden rush of fear wash over me. What if this is all for nothing? What if we're trapped here regardless of what we do? But I push those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand. I grip the handle tightly and heave with all my might, feeling the metal object shift slightly under my strength. "Silra," I call out, my voice strained with effort. "I could use a hand over here!"

I glance back at the others, seeing the fear and determination in their eyes. We're all in this together, and we have to make it count. The filing cabinet creaks as I continue to push, each movement bringing us one step closer to safety...or whatever lies beyond that door. In this moment, I'm not just a convenience store clerk - I'm part of something bigger, something that requires every ounce of strength and courage I possess. And for the first time in my life, I feel truly alive.

I find the door frame behind us in the darkness. It's solid at least—wood and not rotten. The wardstone pulses closer now, each beat like a drum calling us toward it. Jeane's magic feels thin back here, stretched too far over nothing. How long can you hold that thing? Because this building is about to come down on our heads whether we deal with the wardstone or not.

I check my grip on the mirror brace—slippery from spilled lubricant—and feel Hera's eyes on me across this unstable barricade between us and whatever’s pulsing in that dark corridor beyond. The wardstone’s answering every heartbeat louder now, like it knows we’re trapped here with no other way out except through it or down under collapsing concrete. We don’t have time for debate anymore. I shift my weight forward, pressing harder against the door with my shoulder, ignoring the pain from my burned hands. “Find something solid back there to brace that door,” I tell them, voice tight but steady. “If Jeane’s spell slips or this floor gives out, we need a physical backup.”