Round 13

Morning light filtered through stained glass windows, casting vibrant hues across the dusty sanctuary. Two women lay sleeping on a front pew—Hera and Abby, their clothes slightly disheveled and skin glistening with perspiration. Silra holstered her blade slowly, deliberately, making it clear this wasn't capitulation but tactical reassessment. The morning light filtering through stained glass was too beautiful for bloodshed anyway—she'd rather remember this place for the cult's triumph than its cleanup.

Jeane descended the stairs slowly into the sanctuary, each footfall deliberate despite the exhaustion pulling at her limbs. The morning light through stained glass cast shifting patterns across the dusty floor, transforming the air into a kaleidoscope of color. Two women lay sprawled on the front pew—one stirring groggily, the other still deeply unconscious.

Silra moved past her toward the stairs with predatory grace, already reaching for a concealed blade—a brutally efficient solution to their problem.