Round 42 Transcript

You lead the group toward the factory entrance, Silra moving with that same calculated grace she used last night when everything seemed under control. The soldiers watch you go without stopping—clearly their orders just changed again, and now containment means 'herd them somewhere else'.

As you reach the door, it swings open from inside. Not by magic, not by remote—the heavy metal panel simply parts as if someone anticipated your arrival exactly.

A new figure stands framed in the doorway: tall woman in dark business attire, her expression unreadable but eyes sharp on each of you. She steps aside without a word, gesturing for entry with one gloved hand.

The choice hangs heavy: trust yet another mysterious stranger or try to make your stand here where at least the odds are known?

I watch our carefully constructed escape route get flattened by bureaucratic incompetence and now she’s moving everyone toward that factory entrance with cold efficiency. This isn’t protection anymore—this is containment.*

Fine. If she wants to lead, then let her. But the moment we're alone? We're having a conversation about her 'plans' involving mysterious benefactors who can't keep their stories straight.

I stride into the factory interior without hesitation—no point standing around naked while God knows what’s happening outside. The tall woman in front of us steps aside as we file past her into what looks like a converted loading bay. Cold concrete floor, exposed beams overhead, and a half-dozen more figures already waiting inside: two more soldiers in civilian clothes, another suited executive type who could be this operation's real muscle, and three technicians clustered around some kind of portable scanning equipment.

This isn’t a safe house—it’s a processing facility. And we’re the product being inspected before shipment.

“Strip,” the tall woman says without inflection. “Full scan protocol.”

I stop dead. “Excuse me?”

“The clothing you're wearing now,” she continues as if I didn't speak. “Remove it completely for the biometric scanning sequence. This is standard decontamination procedure when dealing with magical contaminants.” Biometric scanning my ass—she means naked.

This feels wrong on so many levels. But standing here arguing about it accomplishes nothing except making us look guilty and slow. Fine. If they want a show, let’s put on one hell of a finale.