Round 7 Transcript

As Jeane hands Hera the empty cup, the sound echoes through the dimly lit basement, punctuated by the faint hum of the city above. The morning light filtering through the grimy windows casts an eerie glow on the scene, illuminating the disarray of sex toys and lubricant bottles scattered about the room. Suddenly, a faint creaking noise emanates from the stairs leading up to the main floor, followed by the soft thud of footsteps.

Jeane's head snaps toward the stairs as the creaking echoes through the basement. Her wings flare instinctively, then fold tight against her back. Everyone, silent and still. She hisses the command, voice barely audible but carrying absolute authority.

The footsteps descend with agonizing slowness—one person, moving carefully. Jeane's hand moves to her belt, fingers brushing the hilt of a concealed dagger. Abby, behind me. Hera, stay visible but compliant. Silra and Halie, prepare defensive positions without drawing attention. She takes one deliberate step toward the stairs as the sound grows closer, eyes calculating the angle for an ambush if needed. If it's Julia or Clarice returning early, they face discipline for abandoning post. If not—

The figure rounds the corner: a middle-aged woman with disheveled hair, wearing what looks like church volunteer attire, carrying a mop and bucket. Her eyes go wide as she takes in the scene of women, sex toys, and occult symbols.

Jeane's hand relaxes from the dagger hilt; her expression shifts to cold, practiced charm. Good morning, dear. We're... conducting a private ritual for spiritual cleansing. You wouldn't happen to be interested in joining a select group dedicated to feminine empowerment through ancient wisdom?