Round 141 Transcript

I can feel it—the building's pulse, its hunger getting harder to ignore. The metal groans under my hands like it wants something more than just welding. Forty minutes. We don't have that kind of time unless someone starts fucking soon. Jeane's eyes are glowing red across the room, her demon barely contained. She looks like she could tear this place apart—or maybe just everyone in it—if given half a chance. But we need her control right now, not her chaos. I pick up the welder again, sparks flying as I work the metal. "Halie," I call out without looking away from the joint I'm trying to seal, "keep an eye on Jeane. If she starts moving toward anyone who hasn't volunteered yet, remind her we need her here managing the structure's demands, not satisfying them." The welder sputters as I run out of fuel for a moment, making me curse under my breath. I'm not going to let this building win by turning us all into a fuckfest while I try to keep the damn ceiling from collapsing. There has to be a way to complete these repairs without becoming part of whatever twisted ritual is happening here. The question is whether Jeane can resist her nature long enough for me to figure it out—or if we're all just playing with fire until someone gets burned. The welder hisses as I refill the fuel tank, my fingers trembling slightly from the psychic pressure. Forty minutes. That's a lifetime in some situations and no time at all in others. Right now, it feels like forever—and not nearly long enough to finish what needs doing.

I watch as Jeane resists Halie's orders, her eyes flaring crimson with an inner struggle that I can almost feel myself.
The building seems to hum around us, a low thrumming vibration that feels like it’s coming from deep within the walls themselves. My own heart starts beating faster, a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Silra is hunched over her workbench, her hands moving with a frantic precision as she assembles what looks like some kind of complex device.
She looks up for a moment and our eyes meet across the room. There's a shared understanding there - we're all just pieces in this game now, moved by forces beyond our control.
"I think," I say, my voice so low it is nearly lost in the air, "that maybe we should all... help each other."
My gaze drifts back to Jeane. She's beautiful, terrifyingly so, a predator wearing a human skin. But right now, she seems more vulnerable than anyone else here.