Round 6 Transcript

The tension in Abandoned church on the outskirts of the city tightens for a beat as the interruption refuses to go away. Everyone is forced to stay quiet and choose their next move carefully.

I circle slowly around this new figure in robes - definitely on something chemical if those pupils are any indication. But the dagger looks real enough, and that means she's either genuinely dangerous or dangerously stupid. We don't have time for either right now. The approaching footsteps sound closer and I gesture sharply back towards where Hera and Abby went. "Move. Now." I don't wait for her to argue - there's no time for debates when you've got unknown males converging on your location and half your party scattered. I take point, pushing through the undergrowth with as little noise as possible while keeping an eye on our new tagalong.*

I watch the robed woman stumble back as I advance, her eyes wide enough you could park a truck in them - fear or drugs or both, doesn't matter which because the result is the same: she's reactive instead of strategic. The sun catches on that stupid dagger she's waving around like it makes up for everything else she's lacking right now. Footsteps are getting louder behind me. We're about to have company and I'm stuck here negotiating with a walking liability who thinks showing up in cult cosplay is enough to earn trust. I circle around her slowly, keeping my distance while trying to read her body language past the obvious fear - is she really alone or did she bring friends? Her hands shake when she grips that dagger, and I notice the way her pupils are blown wide even in this dim light. Great, another drugged-up mess stumbling into our lives like we need more complications right now. I stop a few feet away from her, close enough to make sure she knows I'm serious but not close enough for her to try anything stupid with that knife. "You followed us here?" My voice is flat, no emotion behind it because I don't have the energy for niceties right now - we're hanging by a thread and every second counts. The footsteps are closer now, maybe thirty seconds out if they keep moving at this pace. The woman babbles something about seeing us last night at the bar and wanting to join which makes me want to laugh bitterly - joining isn't as easy as she thinks it is, especially not with a track record like hers. I cut her off before she can ramble into more detail we don't need right now. "Yeah? Well guess what - joining doesn't work like that." I gesture vaguely towards the direction of the approaching footsteps. "Especially when you show up uninvited and start causing scenes in broad daylight where anyone could see."

I take a half-step forward, not enough to be threatening but enough to make it clear I'm not playing around anymore. "You want to join? Then prove you're worth our time instead of just making this situation worse." The footsteps are maybe fifteen seconds out now - we don't have much time for philosophical discussions about cult membership requirements. "And if you can't do that, then you need to leave. Now. Before whoever's coming decides we're all worth investigating."

The woman opens her mouth like she wants to argue but I hold up a hand to stop her before she even starts. "Not a debate. Not the time." My eyes flick towards the trees where the sounds are coming from - whoever it is, they'll be here any second now. "You've got two choices: help us get out of here without drawing attention, or disappear and hope we don't see you again."

I watch her face carefully as she processes this - fear warring with desperation, probably calculating whether staying means more risk than leaving does. Good. Let her make the choice instead of me having to force it. Because honestly? Right now I'm running on fumes and my body is screaming at me after last night's... activities. The soreness between my legs is a constant reminder every time I move, and I can feel that stupid lubricant starting to leak again despite how tightly I'm keeping my thighs pressed together. But none of that matters compared to getting us all back to the city in one piece without attracting attention. So I wait for her response while trying not to think about how badly I want this whole thing to be over already - the hangover, the soreness, the emotional fallout from last night, everything. But it's not over yet. It won't be over until we're back in the city and can figure out what our next move is. Because standing here arguing with a drug-addled groupie isn't going to solve any of our problems, and it certainly won't help us complete this ridiculous quest or avoid accidentally murdering anyone. So focus, Silra. One problem at a time. First we deal with whoever's coming, then we deal with her, then maybe - just maybe - we can all go home and collapse in separate corners to process whatever the hell happened last night. The footsteps are right on top of us now - one more minute max before they're here. Time's up, princess. Make a choice or I'm making it for you.