Round 18 Transcript

Silra moves silently toward the sound's origin point — a small alcove behind some stacked furniture where Abby is hidden. As she approaches, she hears muffled sobs and whispered apologies, clearly audible to anyone paying attention. The duplicates' heads snap toward her immediately, eyes locking onto Silra with predatory focus.

I press myself back against the cold stone wall of the alcove, trying desperately to muffle my sobs into a frantic whisper. The sound seems deafening in the sudden silence of the basement, echoing off the stacks of furniture and equipment that have been pushed aside for the ritual space.
My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird as I hear Silra’s footsteps draw closer — they must be able to hear me by now. The idea of being found here, cowering in the dark while Hera is helpless out there, fills me with a shameful dread that chills me to the bone.
I know I should have stayed quiet, should have been stronger for Hera, but every instinct screamed at me to run when those duplicates appeared. Now all I can do is pray that Silra will help me get back out there before Jeane realizes we're gone and everything falls apart.
The heavy scent of dust and old incense clings to my skin, mingling with the sweat beading on my forehead as I strain to listen to what’s happening in the main room. A muffled voice—Silra’s?—makes a demand, followed by the sharp crackle of something electric. Oh gods, are they fighting?
I press my hands over my mouth, trying to still the frantic tremors that rack my entire body. The thought of Hera bound and vulnerable, unable to protect herself while we were supposed to be her guard... it’s a failure so profound I can hardly bear it. If we lose this place now, because of me, Hera will never forgive us.
I hear the soft rustle of fabric against stone as someone draws closer still. A shadow falls across the slats in the wooden door that conceals my hiding spot. They know I’m here—they must know—but they haven’t said anything yet. That silence is even more terrifying than any shout could be.
A low, menacing chuckle drifts through the air, and then a voice, quiet but unmistakable, calls out: “I can hear you breathing in there, little mouse. Come out now and face the cat before she gets bored and decides to play rough with your friends upstairs."
Silra is right outside my hiding place. She hasn’t exposed me yet, but her tone makes it clear that was only a matter of time. The threat against Hera and Jeane feels like a physical blow to my stomach. They have no idea what they’re dealing with out there if those duplicates aren't working alone.
I take a shaky breath, steeling myself for what I know must come next. There’s no point in hiding anymore — Silra has found me, and we need to get back into the ritual chamber before it’s too late.
"Okay," my voice is so faint it's almost lost in the air, but I push forward, "I'm coming out."

Silra's teal eyes narrow as she listens to Abby's muffled sobs from the alcove, teeth grinding in barely-contained frustration. This is exactly why I didn't want to leave civilians involved in active operations — now we have a hostage situation developing right under our noses and everyone’s attention divided between upstairs threats and whatever these duplicates represent. She draws her small blade with fluid precision, holding it reversed in a grip that turns the weapon into an improvised blackjack.

Silra glances back toward Jeane and the duplicates, calculating angles and escape routes while her mind races through potential solutions. If I go in aggressively to extract Abby, we risk exposing our full hand too early — but if I try subtlety with a civilian in panic mode, she might scream or stumble into something that collapses our entire position. The elf's pointed ears twitch as she hears Jeane escalating the conversation in the main room. We don't have time for a surgical extraction here. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. Okay, new plan — I'm going to flush Abby out with minimal force and maximum intimidation before this situation spirals completely out of control. If she resists or freezes up, I'll knock her unconscious and drag her out, consequences be damned. We need everyone focused on the primary threat, not babysitting a civilian who can't handle basic stealth. Silra moves to position herself between Abby's hiding place and the main room where Jeane is negotiating. Listen carefully — when you come out, I want absolute silence unless absolutely necessary. Follow my lead exactly or we all end up explaining this to Hera over Hera’s corpse while trying to avoid getting arrested by whatever authorities are upstairs. Her voice drops to a dangerous growl. And if you freeze or panic again after I extract you, I will personally sedate and bind you for the rest of this operation — understand?

Jeane's crimson eyes narrow dangerously as she circles the two duplicates, dark wings mantled wide in an intimidating display. Your duplicates may be impressive, but do not mistake theatrics for true power — I have dealt with far more formidable threats than a couple of magically-cloned body doubles. Her voice carries barely-checked anger beneath its cold surface. We are not children to be frightened by tricks and warnings, and certainly not beholden to strangers who appear in our sacred space uninvited. She gestures sharply toward the bound figure of Halie at the ritual's center. My magic holds this woman in perfect stasis — a feat that requires immense concentration and constant channeling. Yet you stand there, maintaining two complete physical forms without apparent strain or magical cost visible to my senses. Jeane's free hand clenches into a fist as she continues circling them slowly. So tell me truly — what are you? Some new rival cultist attempting to poach our territory? Or perhaps an agent of the authorities, come to shut down our operations and imprison us for practicing our faith? Her wings pulse with dark energy as she addresses them directly now. If you claim to offer protection from some external threat, prove it. Show me power beyond mere duplication magic — demonstrate that you possess something we lack, some advantage that justifies your intrusion into matters that do not concern you. Otherwise… Jeane's voice drops to a dangerous purr as the dark orb in her palm crackles with building energy. ...I will consider this an act of aggression against the Cromwell Cult and respond accordingly. She glances toward the stairwell, listening for any sounds from upstairs while keeping her attention divided between the duplicates and the ritual circle. Our time grows short — whatever you sensed that drew you here might yet arrive. If we are to deal with multiple threats simultaneously, I need to know whether you're ally or enemy before things escalate beyond control. Choose your next words carefully, because my patience wears thin fast when strangers threaten my domain.