Round 184

The building's groan shifted frequency—the wardstone answering their presence, pressure changing from waiting to immediate risk. The floor tilted again under her boots while she channeled every available demonic reserve through the dildo into the wall socket. Every pulse of that thing in the walls felt like teeth scraping against her spine. "Halie!" she snapped, voice sharp with barely controlled panic. "Stop looking around in panic—you have a job! Keep that mirror braced or we're all buried alive. Silra has thirty seconds to find us an exit before I..."

The floor groaned like a dying beast beneath them. Halie gripped the mirror harder despite her burned hands screaming protest—she could barely hold it anymore on the slick floor covered in spilled lube and rising water, but if they lost this barricade to the wardstone energy seeping through every crack, Hera would be exposed to whatever that thing was, and she wouldn't let that happen. Jeane's voice cut through her focus: 'Thirty seconds.' Thirty seconds until she kicked down a door they knew nothing about—into what?