Round 20

Silra moved toward the stairs with predatory grace, blade glinting. Every second Hera stayed awake increased their exposure risk exponentially. The sanctuary felt suddenly too small, too exposed. She glanced at Jeane—understanding the sorcerer's aversion to murder in a church, but not sharing it. Not now, when failure meant prison or worse.

Silra stopped halfway up, voice low and urgent. Time's running out. If we let her wake fully and scream...