Round 196

The wardstone pulses again—closer now—and Jeane has to grit her teeth against the backlash hitting through the dildo conduit. "Silra! Timeline! Now!" Her voice sharpens despite trying to keep it steady for Hera's sake, because they're running out of seconds here and she hasn't answered yet. The floor tilts again under their feet, water flooding from somewhere on the floor, and Hera's hyperventilating is audible. As the wardstone pulses accelerate with each passing moment.

Halie pushes her weight against the door, burned hands screaming protest but she can't let up—the wardstone's energy is licking around the frame now, tasting their fear. Building groans like a beast waking up wrong, and Hera's hyperventilating behind her, her panic sharper than any pain in her palms. "Jeane!" Her voice comes out steadier than she feels. "How long does Silra need? Floor's shifting under us." Water's flooding in somewhere unseen, mixing with the spilled lube to make the surface slicker than sin.

Silra counts breaches by sound alone—three major ones above them, spreading like cracks in ice. The building groans like something's tearing inside its bones. They have seconds, not minutes.