Round 174 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.

The wardstone's pulse is getting sharper now—like teeth in my skull. We're running out of options here. Hera and Halie have their hands full with Abby; we can't keep this barricade stable much longer without more bodies on it. And you, Jeane—I don't think you should be channeling that dildo right now unless you want to turn into a walking conduit for whatever the fuck is under this building. I'm going to check the ceiling again. If we can brace the floor joists from above before they snap completely, maybe we buy ourselves another minute or two. And I swear to every deity that's listening—if the wardstone starts leaking through the floorboards, I am grabbing you and running even if it means leaving everything else behind. The lamp under the door flickers with each groan of the building. Something heavy is moving up there in the darkness—that sound isn't just settling concrete. Whatever's answering our presence? It knows we're here now. And it's not going back to sleep.

Halie braces her burned hands against the mirror, trying to keep it in place without letting Hera's skin touch hers—she can see the corruption spreading like dark veins under translucent skin, beautiful even through the terror. The wardstone pulses faster now, each beat feeling like teeth scraping her insides. We need more weight on this door. My hands are failing me.