Round 8 Transcript

I watch Hera tremble before me, her silence fueling my growing rage. How dare she refuse to answer? After everything I've done for this group, for her? The power inside me begins to stir, responding to my anger. My wings flex involuntarily as the magic pulses through me. "Fine," I snarl, stepping closer. "You leave me no choice."*

I raise my hand, palm out toward Hera, and a surge of dark energy crackles between us. "Let's see if this motivates you to speak," I say, my voice dripping with malice as the magical tendrils reach for her.

The air around us crackles with energy as the dark magic responds to my will. It coils around Hera like living shadows, visible only to those with the sight—an invisible threat made manifest. Her eyes widen in terror as she feels the cold tendrils wrapping around her arms and legs, pinning her in place. "Talk," I command, my voice a low growl. "Or this gets much worse."*

The magical bonds tighten, squeezing Hera's limbs with increasing pressure. She gasps, struggling against the invisible restraints, but the magic holds firm. Good—let her feel the consequences of defying me.

Behind me, the church door creaks open slightly, and I hear Silra's voice call out. "Jeane? Everything okay out there?" I ignore her. This is between Hera and me.

I feel my patience shatter as Hera refuses to speak. The power inside me surges, responding to my anger. My wings flex involuntarily as the magic pulses through me. "Fine," I snarl, stepping closer. "You leave me no choice."

I raise my hand, palm out toward Hera, and a surge of dark energy crackles between us. "Let's see if this motivates you to speak," I say, my voice dripping with malice as the magical tendrils reach for her.

The air around us crackles with energy as the dark magic responds to my will. It coils around Hera like living shadows, visible only to those with the sight—an invisible threat made manifest. Her eyes widen in terror as she feels the cold tendrils wrapping around her arms and legs, pinning her in place. "Talk," I command, my voice a low growl. "Or this gets much worse." The magical bonds tighten, squeezing Hera's limbs with increasing pressure. She gasps, struggling against the invisible restraints, but the magic holds firm. Good—let her feel the consequences of defying me. Behind me, the church door creaks open slightly, and I hear Silra's voice call out. "Jeane? Everything okay out there?" I ignore her. This is between Hera and me.

I lean in closer to Hera, my crimson eyes burning with rage as I speak in a low, menacing tone: "You have two choices," I hiss, "either you tell me everything—how much you know, where you got your information, who sent you—or I will make sure you never leave this church again. And trust me when I say, death would be a mercy compared to what I'm capable of."

The dark energy around Hera pulses in time with my words, as if emphasizing the threat. "So start talking," I demand, "or this ends now."

Silra | Rogue]
I round the corner just in time to see Jeane's power unleashed. Dark tendrils of shadow magic lash out from her hands, wrapping around Hera like an invisible straitjacket. The air crackles with raw energy, and I feel it prickling against my skin even from here.

"Jeane!" I call out, my voice sharp with warning. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

But she doesn't respond, too focused on Hera to acknowledge me. I watch as the magical bonds tighten, squeezing Hera's limbs with increasing pressure. The civilian woman's face is a mask of terror, her eyes wide and pleading as she struggles uselessly against the invisible restraints.

Behind us, Clarice gasps in shock at the scene unfolding before her. "What is that? What's happening?" I grab her arm and pull her back around the corner of the church before she can draw any more attention to ourselves. "Stay here," I hiss, "and stay quiet. This situation is way out of hand."*

Peering around the corner again, I assess the threat. Jeane has Hera completely immobilized with her dark magic. The power output is impressive—stronger than I've ever seen her use before. But it's also reckless as hell. If any civilians stumble upon this scene, we're fucked.

I glance back at Clarice. She's pale and shaking, but there's a calculating look in her eyes that tells me she's processing everything she's seeing. Shit—I can't leave her out here alone, and I can't pull her into the middle of this mess either. My mind races through options as I try to figure out how to handle both situations simultaneously.

Inside the church, I hear movement. Halie must have heard the commotion outside—she'll be coming to investigate soon. Great, now we'll have a whole audience for this disaster in the making.

I need to intervene before this spirals completely out of control, but walking into the middle of Jeane's magic demonstration seems like a great way to get myself tangled up too. My hand unconsciously moves to my belt where my tools usually hang—empty now, thanks to the binding ritual stripping us of our gear.

Fuck it. I can't just stand here and watch this happen. "Jeane!" I shout again, "You need to calm down right now! This is not how we handle things! Think about where we are!"

She still doesn't respond, her attention laser-focused on Hera. The magical bonds pulse with dark energy, tightening further as Hera whimpers in pain.

I take a deep breath and step forward. "Fine," I mutter to myself, "if she won't listen to reason..."*