Round 97 Transcript

Silra's challenge hangs in the air—bold but stupid. The tall woman's face doesn't change, but something shifts. The temperature drops another few degrees as the twin figures' symbols pulse brighter.

"Separation is... necessary," they speak together, voices echoing unnaturally. "Your group represents a variable we cannot..." The other finishes,* "...control. The risk of contamination is too great."

One of them raises both hands now—shadows beginning to swirl around BOTH of them in a vortex that's growing larger and hungrier by the second.

Ms. Stone steps forward, pulling out her phone. "This is getting tiresome," she says coldly. "Do what you want with the cultists—they're useless anyway—but I have other matters to attend to." She glances at Silra. "You're making this harder than necessary."

The soldiers shift uneasily as the temperature continues dropping, their tactical gear suddenly seeming less intimidating when faced with magical fuckery. One of them mutters something about 'calling for backup' but Ms. Stone silences him with a sharp gesture.

"You," she snaps at Silra, "shut your mouth before I shut it permanently." She turns to the tall woman.* "Control your pets or I will control them FOR you."

The vortex of shadow begins to creep across the floor towards you all—slowly, lazily, like a cat with too much time on its paws.

This is your moment: The twin freaks are escalating fast. Ms. Stone is done fucking around and might actually help... or just get in the way. The soldiers are looking less confident by the second.

I press myself back against the wall until it feels like it might crack under my weight, every instinct screaming to run even though I know there’s nowhere to go.
The soldiers are one thing—a known threat—but these robed figures... they exude an ancient, chilling power that makes my skin crawl. The shadows swirling around their feet look hungry, and the way they move in perfect sync is unnatural.
My eyes dart to Silra—her defiance just seems suicidal now.
I want to scream at her to stop, to beg for mercy before it’s too late, but my voice has completely deserted me. All I can do is watch, paralyzed with fear as the vortex inches closer, its tendrils reaching out like fingers eager to pull us all in.
The tall woman's cold authority cuts through the air.
I've never seen someone so unafraid of magic—she's just irritated by it. And now she’s talking about us being useless?
Halia is still kneeling, trying to look small and non-threatening, but I can see her hands trembling at her sides. She looks up as the shadows creep near, a flicker of pure terror passing over her face.
I have no idea what to do—no spells to cast, no weapons to grab. All my training in seduction feels utterly useless against this kind of power.
The soldiers seem unsure too—their guns suddenly look inadequate against whatever these freaks are wielding. One of them mutters something about backup, but Ms. Stone silences him with a glare that could freeze water.
This is it. This is how we die: naked and helpless before forces we can’t even begin to comprehend.
The vortex is almost upon us now—its chill slithering up my legs, raising goosebumps on my skin. It feels like being touched by a ghost made of ice.

I watch Ms. Stone and the tall woman square off—corporate power clashing with something far more sinister. The soldiers look like they want to be anywhere else, and those twin freaks are literally summoning a fucking shadow portal between us.

Halia's kneeling prayer isn't going to save shit, but at least she's not panicking completely. Jeane looks ready to start throwing spells and make everything worse. Hera and Abby? Just terrified meat shields at this point.

What would the others do? I'm out of my depth here—this is way beyond seduction or hacking. But I've always been good at finding exits, leverage, and the one thing these assholes didn't plan for.

"Separately?" I repeat, voice dripping with contempt. "You think we're stupid enough to let you pick us off one by one for... what? 'Questioning'? Interrogation? Or are you planning to process us like cattle and ship us off to whatever fucking lab awaits?"

The tall cunt can think she's in charge all she wants, but this is MY cult. I don't give a shit if she's the CEO of Hell itself—she touches one hair on Halia's head, and I'll turn her into a fucking candlestick

Silra tries to talk us out of this? Fine. Let HER handle the bullshit diplomacy while I calculate teleport options. One misstep from any of these fuckers, and they all die.

Halia's trembling but standing her ground—I can work with that. The others? Scared shitless. Useful for nothing but absorbing shock in a fire fight if it comes to that.

Not MY ideal endgame—preferred to have the whole city dancing naked by now—but if we're doing this, I'm not playing along like some obedient pet.

The tall cunt wants us separated? Fuck her.

I stare at the tall bitch and her pet soldiers, calculating teleport angles while keeping Halia behind me.* This fucking coward wants to split us up? Fine. Let HER try to separate what I've built.

"Separately?" I repeat, voice dripping with contempt.* "You think we're stupid enough to let you pick us off one by one for... what? 'Questioning'? Interrogation? Or are you planning to process us like cattle and ship us off to whatever fucking lab awaits?"

My gaze shifts to the twin freaks—robed, masked, absolutely still except for those goddamn glowing symbols. What ARE you? The air around them feels wrong. Heavy. Wrong.

The tall cunt can think she's in charge all she wants, but this is MY cult. I don't give a shit if she's the CEO of Hell itself—she touches one hair on Halia's head, and I'll turn her into a fucking candlestick

Silra tries to talk us out of this? Fine. Let HER handle the bullshit diplomacy while I calculate teleport options. One misstep from any of these fuckers, and they all die.

Halia's trembling but standing her ground—I can work with that. The others? Scared shitless. Useful for nothing but absorbing shock in a fire fight if it comes to that.

Not MY ideal endgame—preferred to have the whole city dancing naked by now—but if we're doing this, I'm not playing along like some obedient pet.

The tall cunt wants us separated? Fuck her.