Round 17

Jeane descended into the sanctuary, her movements careful despite exhaustion pulling at every muscle. Morning light through stained glass transformed dust motes into floating jewels, painting the room in shifting color. Two women sprawled across the front pew—one stirring groggily, the other unconscious. Silra stood at the base of the stairs with a blade glinting, already reaching for it—a brutal solution that made Jeane's skin crawl despite lingering arousal from last night.

Silra's grip tightened on the knife blade as Halie pleaded for mercy she didn't believe these two civilians deserved. The odds were shifting—one of them was stirring now, actively moving toward wakefulness. Time was running out. She turned to face Jeane directly, voice low and urgent. You're right about the mess upstairs. But we're not just dealing with witnesses anymore—they're active threats who can alert authorities or call for help before we can neutralize them quietly.

Jeane's stomach twisted with nausea that had nothing to do with last night's exertions. The thought of Silra silencing those women permanently made her physically ill, especially in a church sanctuary. We need a better plan than murdering civilians who were just... enjoying themselves, she hissed back, glancing nervously at the stirring woman.*