Round 54 Transcript

As Halie pulls Jeane away from the edge of the collapsed wall, the water rushes in, swirling around their ankles. The sound of rushing water and creaking metal fills the air, and the chamber's ancient subway tracks groan ominously above them. Silra's eyes widen as she sees her screens flicker wildly, indicating that the countermeasures are about to overwhelm her bypass. "Twenty seconds left!" she cries out, her voice strained with urgency. The entity outside the shield surges forward, its form coalescing into a twisted mass of shadow and smoke. The air is thick with the stench of decay and ozone, and the water level rises rapidly, threatening to engulf the group. Halie swiftly moves to grab Jeane's arm, pulling her away from the edge of the collapsed wall. "We need to move, now!" she shouts above the din. Jeane's crimson eyes narrow dangerously as she watches the water level rise around them. She steps closer to Halie, her voice dropping to a near-whisper that somehow carries more threat than her earlier shouts. "Clock's ticking, and I'm getting tired of being the reasonable one. What's your call?"

The sound of rushing water grows louder, and the chamber begins to darken due to the rising floodwaters.

Jeane Cromwell's crimson eyes flash with impatience as she glares at the flickering screens surrounding Silra. Ninety seconds—fine! She snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut through the rushing water and creaking metal above them. But you'd better make those thirty extra seconds count for something more than just digital masturbation! The tall succubus wades deeper into the new chamber, her dark wings half-spread for balance as she scans their surroundings with predatory focus. The ancient subway station-turned-lake reveals itself slowly in the dim red glow of her crystal—massive archways swallowed by darkness, water swirling around crumbling support pillars. This is my kind of hunting ground, Jeane mutters, more to herself than to Halie following behind. Old magic clings to these walls like moss. Something foul has taken root down here. She turns back to face the cleric, her expression a mix of barely-contained impatience and something darker—hunger. Keep that cross ready, priestess. We might need more than divine protection against whatever's festering in this corporate crypt. Jeane's hand moves to one particular pouch on her belt, fingers brushing against cold metal inside. And if Silra fails us... The sound of rushing water grows louder as more floodwaters pour in from the collapsed wall behind them. The chamber begins to darken due to the rising level. Then I'll make this entire station regret ever being built! Jeane's voice echoes with demonic promise. Clock's ticking, and I'm done playing nice with shadows and security protocols. She raises her glowing crystal higher, red light casting stark shadows across ancient brick walls slick with moisture. Her wings unfurl fully now for balance as the water reaches mid-calf level. This 'Erebus Protocol' smells like something older than corporate greed—something that feeds on desperation and fear. Jeane's crimson eyes gleam with unholy light. If Silra can't crack it, then we'll tear it apart piece by screaming entity until someone—or something—talks! Jeane's free hand moves to another pouch on her belt, this one bulging with mysterious contents that clink softly as she shifts her weight against the rising current. You wanted compromise earlier? Fine. I've given Silra those extra thirty seconds she demanded like some digital diva. But after this... Her voice drops to a dangerous purr, We're doing this MY way: brute force, demonic intimidation, whatever it takes to get answers before we drown in this corporate sewer—or before that teal-haired hacker types herself into an early grave. She steps closer to Halie through the swirling water, close enough that the cleric can feel the unnatural heat radiating from Jeane's succubus skin. Are you with me, priestess? Or do I need to remind you why they call me 'The Hellion of New York'? The sound of rushing water fills the chamber as more floodwaters pour in, the ancient subway tracks groaning ominously above them. The water is now waist-deep and rising fast. Because once those ninety seconds are up—whether Silra has access or not—I'm unleashing hell on this corporate afterlife whether you're ready or not.

Halie steps back through the rising water, her silver cross gripped tightly. "Wait!" she calls out, voice cutting through the roar of rushing floodwaters. Her blue-grey eyes scan the flickering screens surrounding Silra—seeing the teal-haired rogue's fingers dance across interfaces even as the entity looms closer. Halie's jaw sets with determination despite the cold water now reaching her thighs. "Silra needs those full ninety seconds, and we'll give them to her." The cleric turns to face Jeane properly for the first time since entering this new chamber, her expression a mixture of respectful disagreement and unwavering conviction. "We're not leaving our team member behind," Halie states firmly, though she can feel the current tugging at her robes. "And we're certainly not resorting to 'brute force' or 'demonic intimidation' before understanding what this Erebus Protocol actually is." Her gaze shifts to the ancient subway architecture around them—sensing something old and wrong beneath the corporate corruption Jeane described. The water swirls ominously at her waist now, and she braces against it with one hand on a crumbling brick wall. "You wanted compromise earlier? Fine," Halie echoes Jeane's words back, voice steady despite the rising floodwaters lapping at her chest. "Here's my offer: We give Silra those full ninety seconds plus thirty grace for contingencies—that's two minutes total." The cleric's free hand moves to her belt where she carries small vials of holy water and blessed oils. If she gets access, we follow her lead on what to investigate first. But if the entity attacks before then..." Halie's fingers close around one of those vials, feeling its cool glass surface through the swirling currents. "If that thing comes for us before Silra finishes," the cleric continues, meeting Jeane's crimson glare with unwavering blue-grey resolve, "then we fight it together—smartly. Divine magic and demonic power can be potent allies when wielded wisely." She takes a deep breath, the cold water pressing against her chin now. I'll provide covering fire while you scout ahead or flank our enemy. We use our combined skills to neutralize threats, not just destroy everything in sight. "Because destroying this entire station might collapse it on us—or worse, trigger whatever failsafe this Erebus Protocol has built-in." Halie's voice softens slightly. I trust Silra's technical expertise as much as I respect your... direct approach to problems. But we need to be strategic about this—understand the enemy before engaging fully. The cleric checks her belt again, ensuring she can reach both holy symbols and small weapons if needed. The water is now neck-deep, and she treads carefully. So here's my call: We give Silra two minutes exactly. If she gets access, we follow her lead based on what the data shows. If that entity attacks before then—or if something else threatens our team—we coordinate our response rather than just unleashing chaos. Halie looks up at Jeane through the swirling water.* Can you agree to those terms? Because I'd rather face whatever's coming with a teammate I can trust to have my back—and Silra's—in a coordinated fight.