Round 6

As Sister Hale rose from her crouched position at the altar stone, her eyes locked onto Silra's worried gaze peering down into the chasm below. The air was heavy with an otherworldly energy that seemed to seep from the very stones themselves, as if the church had been built for a purpose not entirely of this world. Jeane watched from the bell tower, her mind racing with the implications of their discovery: an altar stone that wasn't designed for prayer, but rather as a conduit for some ancient hunger.

Silra's fingers traced the crack in the floor, her voice laced with skepticism as she spoke. "This whole church is a damn puzzle box—and I don't trust boxes built by things with fingers too long to be human." The lantern's light cast weak shadows on the walls, revealing old cracks that seemed more like deliberate engineering than the natural wear of age.

Sister Hale pressed her palm flat against the cold stone floor, her expression grim. "The stone itself is hungry—that's the only word for it. Something built this place wanting, needing what falls through those cracks down below." With a quiet determination, she gathered her things and began to make her way towards the bell tower, securing their temporary camp as they prepared for potential traps below.