Round 78

Silra's eyes narrow as she watches the unfolding scene, her mind racing with calculations and possibilities. "Oh for fuck's sake," she mutters under her breath, "Jeane making empty threats while Halia prays and Hera trembles? This is why we're in this mess." The enhanced bitch cracks her knuckles like some cheap enforcer trying too hard—real intimidating, not. The robed twins and their glowing symbols are new players she doesn't understand yet.*

She shifts slightly, the movement drawing attention to her naked form in a way that makes her skin crawl despite the lingering arousal from earlier activities. This is no time for distractions. She needs to think, to act—smartly. Ms. Stone's cold smile doesn't waver as she regards Jeane coolly. "Business? How delightfully direct of you," she purrs, "perhaps we can come to an... arrangement after all." The tall woman in the business suit steps forward, her presence commanding despite the industrial setting.*

Fuck. More complications. Silra forces herself to focus, pushing aside the lingering ache between her legs and the unsettling sensation of being watched by unseen eyes. This is what she's trained for—situation analysis, threat assessment, contingency planning. Not standing around naked like a fucking sex doll on display.