Round 75 Transcript

Ms. Stone's voice cuts through the tension like a knife. "I must insist you follow proper protocol for asset evaluation." The soldiers shift uncomfortably at this sudden attention—clearly not expecting the enhanced woman to single out one of our captives for interrogation instead of their original targets.

One mutters something about 'de-escalation' but falls silent under her glare. Fuck—I need to assess these new figures fast. Who are they working for? What do they really want? The enhanced woman's casual brutality suggests military or security background. The twins? Their matching symbols and identical appearances scream coordinated operation, not rogue cultists acting alone.*

Ms. Stone? Observing from afar like this is performance art rather than actual crisis management. Amateurs all of them, even the enhanced one who thinks circling Silra will intimidate us. I know better—she’s profiling each of us, determining threat levels and disposal options.*

The soldiers? Just pawns following orders; their uncertainty works to our advantage if handled right. Halia on her knees? Playing her role to perfection but that prayer might as well be a neon sign reading 'martyr complex.'*

No. I won't let these fuckers hurt them—not because of some misplaced loyalty, but because we’re too useful alive. Dead? No value at all. But captured? Used properly? That’s how you build an empire.

The enhanced woman twists Silra’s arm further. "Don’t make me break it," she hisses. “You're coming whether you like it or not.”*

I snap back to attention just in time to see Silra slammed against brick—our resident traitor about to get her comeuppance while I was still dazed from that blow. Fuck.

The twin cultists' symbols pulse brighter now, almost painfully bright in the dim alley. The enhanced woman circles Silra again, close enough that her power crackles across the rogue's skin like static electricity—a constant reminder of how outmatched we are.*

Ms. Stone observes from a safe distance, "I must insist you follow proper protocol for asset evaluation." The soldiers shift uncomfortably at this sudden attention—clearly not expecting the enhanced woman to single out one of our captives for interrogation instead of their original targets. One mutters something about 'de-escalation' but falls silent under her glare.*

Fuck—I need to assess these new figures fast. Who are they working for? What do they really want? The enhanced woman's casual brutality suggests military or security background. The twins? Their matching symbols and identical appearances scream coordinated operation, not rogue cultists acting alone.*

Ms. Stone? Observing from afar like this is performance art rather than actual crisis management. Amateurs all of them, even the enhanced one who thinks circling Silra will intimidate us. I know better—she’s profiling each of us, determining threat levels and disposal options.*

The soldiers? Just pawns following orders; their uncertainty works to our advantage if handled right. Halia on her knees? Playing her role to perfection but that prayer might as well be a neon sign reading 'martyr complex.'*

No. I won't let these fuckers hurt them—not because of some misplaced loyalty, but because we’re too useful alive. Dead? No value at all. But captured? Used properly? That’s how you build an empire.

The enhanced woman twists Silra’s arm further. "Don’t make me break it," she hisses. “You're coming whether you like it or not.”*

I can't believe what I'm seeing—this isn't just a factory at all, it's some kind of… facility. Those hidden doorways opening to reveal beds and medical equipment? This is where they take people. And we're next if we don't do something.

These soldiers might be following orders, but their uncertainty gives us leverage. The twins with those symbols—their magic feels wrong, forced somehow, like it's tearing at reality around them. The enhanced woman? She's the real threat here—casual brutality like that isn't learned in a day. We need to avoid direct confrontation with her.

Ms. Stone? Standing there so calmly while discussing our 'evaluation'… she's the one really pulling strings here, using these thugs as tools. The kind who'll let others bleed just to maintain control. I won't let them take us without a fight—we've come too far to end up as specimens in some corporate experiment.*

But how? Magic is out of the question with soldiers watching; one wrong move and they'll open fire. Physical force? The enhanced woman would tear through us like paper. Then maybe… faith can be our weapon.*