Round 21

The screen flickered to life, Hera's voice emerging smooth as silk—"Ah, excellent"—as she gestured to Silra. The elf smirked and typed "SUSPECT". The screen demanded authentication; the demon laughed like nails on slate. "Triggered our measure," it sneered. "Silra dear, be creative."

Jeane hissed, wings shifting restlessly: "A password test? How... pedestrian." I stepped forward, holy symbol raised: "Sisters—faith in each other and the divine spark within!" The screen cycled through compromising images of their earlier moments.

"Now that we have your cooperation," Hera purred, "let's take a look at what you're really doing here." Silra's fingers paused mid-tap as she decoded the threat. "SUSPECT was supposed to be subtle—now we're playing chess with our lives," she muttered, glancing between her sisters and the countdown bleeding seconds on screen.

"Fine," she continued with a predatory smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You want convincing? I'll convince you that we're completely under your thumb..." The demon's laughter echoed again—a grating sound like nails on slate.