Round 88

The industrial factory interior suddenly feels far too small. Four women stand naked between soldiers who can't quite hide their lingering arousal and two new figures whose presence shifts the entire dynamic. The soldiers' weapons are still holstered but their hands hover near them—ready to draw if needed, following orders even when their bodies remember something else entirely. Halia kneels praying at the far end of the room, her voice barely audible over the sudden heavy silence that's fallen.