Round 4

Silra's hand tightens around her concealed blade, knuckles whitening as she listens to Halie's plea. Sweetheart, we don't have the luxury of moral debates right now—those two up there are a liability that gets worse by the second. Her voice is barely audible, but the steel beneath it cuts through the dusty air. She glances back at Jeane, then up the stairs where morning light pools in dangerous patches. I'm not suggesting murder for sport—I'm proposing problem-solving with minimal collateral damage.

Jeane descends the stairs slowly, each step deliberate and silent despite the exhaustion weighing heavy on her limbs. The sanctuary above is bathed in cold morning light filtering through stained glass, transforming dust into glittering motes suspended in the air. Two women lie sprawled across a pew near the altar—one stirring vaguely, while the other remains deeply unconscious. The silence feels fragile, ready to shatter at any sudden movement or careless sound. *I take in the scene clinically: one civilian barely conscious, the other completely out. Evidence of their activities is everywhere—the scent of sex heavy in the air, clothing askew, bodies glistening with sweat and other fluids. Too much risk for silence alone. The smart move would be to...