Round 202 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 feel it—each wardstone pulse is a heartbeat counting down structural seconds. The building groans like an old beast waking up to prey. Halie's hands are burning against that doorframe but she doesn't flinch. Stupid brave girl. I channel more energy through the dildo, my clit throbbing in sync with the wardstones. Two minutes. Maybe less. We need those two minutes or we all die down there with whatever's in the dark corridor beyond.

I can't hold this much longer—not alone. The stone is screaming now, burning my palms raw even through my robes. Every pulse feels like teeth gnawing into bone. Jeane, if you're channeling something through that dildo, make it count. I need whatever magic you've got in the next ten seconds or we're all under a mountain of concrete and wardstone filth. Silra, get Hera behind the barricade—now! She's not ready for what's coming through this door if it gives way before we can brace it properly. My hands are already failing me; I can feel the flesh cooking from the inside out where the energy leaks through cracks in the stone frame. We don't have minutes, we have seconds. The whole floor is groaning like a dying beast. That dark corridor beyond—whatever's waiting down there isn't waiting anymore. It knows we're here and it wants us close.