Round 10 Transcript

Silra descends further down the stairs, her movements cautious but deliberate. The gloomy light from above barely reaches this lower level. She eyes both women critically—mother and daughter huddled close, faces streaked with tears and fear. You have thirty seconds to decide if you're going to cooperate peacefully before I lose my patience and things get ugly down here. Jeane's silhouette appears at the top of the stairs behind her—a looming presence even in shadow.

A sudden loud CRASH echoes from upstairs—the sound of something heavy falling over. Silra's hand tightens around the vial. Fuck. That wasn't accidental—something just happened up there. She turns back to the two women, voice sharp with urgency. Time's up. You're coming with me whether you like it or not. Before they can react, Silra moves fast—grabbing the younger girl by one arm and yanking her upright. Move! The mother screams—a high-pitched sound of terror that cuts through the basement air.

Upstairs, another crash follows immediately—the unmistakable sound of furniture being overturned or a struggle breaking out. Jeane's voice bellows down the stairs, barely intelligible but filled with rage. Silra! Situation! Report NOW!

The screaming upstairs is exactly what we needed—loud, panicked, escalating fast. This is going from bad to catastrophic in minutes if someone calls the authorities. Jeane's shouting down the stairs doesn't help; it just adds more noise to the chaos. I've got the younger girl by the arm, but her mother is still on the floor sobbing and screaming—can't exactly drag two people out of here while everything upstairs is collapsing. The vial in my hand feels heavier now, more immediate. This isn't recruitment gone wrong anymore; this is a goddamn hostage situation with civilians in the middle. I look at Jeane's silhouette at the top of the stairs—the girl there needs to decide fast or I leave her behind and deal with just one person. Hera! I shout up the stairs, voice sharp enough to cut through the noise. If you're coming down here to help, MOVE YOUR ASS RIGHT NOW. If not, find somewhere to hide because this is about to get ugly.

Jeane descends halfway down the stairs, her movements deliberate and controlled despite the chaos. Her crimson eyes scan the basement scene—Silra restraining one of the women, the other on the floor screaming, heavy crashes and shouts coming from upstairs.

Enough! Her voice cuts through the noise like a knife. Silra, secure those two and gag them if necessary—they're not leaving until we understand what's happening up there. She doesn't wait for confirmation but continues downwards, wings half-spread in an intimidating display. Hera! Get downstairs now and assist Silra—this is no time for moral hesitation. The situation has escalated beyond recruitment gone wrong, and we need every capable hand available.

Jeane reaches the basement floor proper, her expression a mask of controlled fury. She grabs the still-sobbing woman by the hair, yanking her head back to force eye contact. Listen carefully because I'm only going to say this once—shut up. You are in no position to negotiate, plead, or expect mercy. Her free hand produces a small blade from seemingly nowhere—a wicked little thing that glints even in the dim light. You have two choices: cooperate completely and silently, or I'll demonstrate exactly why you shouldn't have come here tonight. Understand?