Round 91

Silra moves with practiced ease, positioning herself as a buffer between the approaching figures and her sisters. Her expression is a perfect mask of calm professionalism, but beneath it she’s calculating every variable—from the soldiers’ body language to the new woman’s micro-expressions. This isn’t just an inspection; this is a fucking intervention. And we’re about to find out if our little operation has attracted more attention than they can handle.

Jeane’s wings twitch with barely contained rage as she suppresses her instinct to simply teleport everyone to safety. The twins’ unnatural stillness sets her teeth on edge—there’s something wrong with those two, something that goes beyond the obvious physical modifications. She meets Silra’s gaze for a long moment, silently acknowledging their shared understanding of the situation: they need to play this smart and fast, or everything falls apart.

Abby presses herself against the wall like she might disappear into it if she prays hard enough. Her wide brown eyes are fixed on Ms. Stone with terror and confusion—this isn’t what she signed up for when she agreed to 'help her sisters.' Hera stands frozen between Silra and Halia, torn between fear and a growing protective instinct. She wants to help but doesn’t know how; her world has never included armed soldiers or corporate overlords.

Ms. Stone’s cold smile doesn’t reach her eyes as she watches the proceedings unfold. This is exactly what she wanted—Jeane and Silra forced to navigate a situation they can’t control through violence, proving their dependence on her resources and protection. The enhanced operative stands slightly behind her, hands clasped loosely in front of her but ready to move at any provocation.