Round 179

The building groans around them, a sound like an old beast settling into final rigor mortis. The wardstone pulses again, sharp and insistent—fucking thing knows we're trapped in here now. Jeane grits her teeth, pushing more power through the dildo channel into the wall socket while her wings flex instinctively behind her. She can feel it trying to pull back, wanting to corrupt the spellwork and flood the corridor with its energy.

"Two minutes," she mutters mostly to herself, though her voice carries in the enclosed space. "Maybe three if we're lucky. The pulses are getting stronger—it's counting down." Her crimson eyes flick toward Silra crouched between joists, then back to the door where Halie is struggling with the mirror barricade. They don't have time for this shit.

Halie's hands slip again, and she curses under her breath while adjusting her grip on the heavy mirror. The floor beneath them is slick with water and lubricant—fucking ironic that their last stand is being undermined by sex toy fluids. Her burned palms scream every time she adjusts position, but she can't let go or Hera will get too close to that door and whatever's waiting beyond it.

"Mirror's sliding," Halie calls out, voice tight with effort. "Floor's getting worse—more water from above, more... stuff from below." She shifts her weight carefully, trying to find purchase on the smooth tile. "I can't hold this much longer, especially not with Hera pushing against it like that."

Silra straightens up from her examination of the floor joists, face set in determined lines. This building is a death trap—she can feel every groan and creak through the structure now, knows they have minutes at best before something catastrophic gives way. The wardstone energy is making her skin crawl, but it's Jeane's growing panic that really sets her teeth on edge.

"I'm not dying here because we're too stupid to move," she snaps, moving toward the group. "The structural integrity is shot—we need to get out now before this whole floor collapses." She glares at Hera pressed against the door. "And you need to back off before you push through and let whatever's beyond in."

Jeane's wings flex again as she channels more power into the barrier spell, fighting against the wardstone's pull. She can feel her demonic nature straining at the edges of her control—fuck, they need to move now before she loses it completely.

"Two minutes," she repeats, voice tight with concentration. "Maybe three if we're lucky. We need to find another way out—now." Her eyes lock onto Silra's. "And yes, I know you want to run and leave the wardstone behind, but that door is compromised and whatever's beyond it is feeding on Hera's fear. We can't just abandon her."

The building groans again, louder this time—a sound like wood giving up its last resistance. They're out of time.