Round 195

The penthouse suite groaned around them like a living thing settling into its final rest, walls flexing inward and outward in a sickening rhythm that made Halie's stomach churn. But she couldn't let fear control her now—not when Silra was risking everything to keep them alive, not when Hera's wide-eyed terror demanded leadership, not when Abby's conflicted arousal needed gentle handling. "Silra," Halie said firmly but gently, stepping between the elf and the task at hand. "I understand your frustration, but we can't just... fix this mechanically." Her gaze shifted to where Jeane was visibly losing her battle against the succubus nature that had always lurked beneath the surface. Dark wings half-spread despite the woman's desperate efforts to contain them, muscles straining against an invisible force.

"Jeane isn't broken machinery," Halie continued, turning back to Silra. "She needs help, not efficiency." The cleric's eyes moved from face to face, taking in the terrified Hera, the conflicted Abby, and the struggling Jeane. "We're all in this together. We'll figure it out—together."