Round 62

Jeane’s crimson eyes blaze with barely contained fury as she assesses the new threats converging on her followers. Two identical cultists strut into view, their movements unsettlingly synchronized as they position themselves to flank the group. "Asset requires processing," one intones flatly while the other continues in perfect harmony: "Separation of... useful components from..." Their voices blend into a single unsettling cadence as they advance.

Across the factory floor, a sleek figure descends from above with fluid grace—an enhanced female operative matching their symbols. Jeane’s wings twitch with barely restrained violence as she takes in this new nightmare scenario. "This isn't just random violence or rogue cultists anymore," she hisses through clenched teeth. "This is coordinated, military-precision cleanup with magical enforcement backing the...

Silra watches Halia kneel praying and something between disgust and respect flickers through her. The elf calculates every angle of this clusterfuck with cold precision. Four women naked between soldiers and new figures? Processing facility masquerading as safe house?

Before she can respond, two hooded figures emerge from a van—identical robes, glowing symbols on their forearms. Halia kneels praying desperately between the naked bodies of her sisters and the soldiers who point guns at them like animals. The words come automatically—protect these innocents, shield them from harm, guide their path even if it costs me my life. But God doesn’t answer this prayer with fire from heaven or armies descending to smite their enemies.*

Two identical cultists lower their hoods in unison, revealing unsettlingly similar faces beneath. "Asset requires processing," one intones flatly while the other continues in perfect harmony: "Separation of... useful components from..." Their voices blend into a single unsettling cadence as they advance.