Nery had been dragged through the broken portal barely an hour ago. Black smoke still leaked from her limbs where she resisted capture. Five men are dead. Three are in surgery. Her body now sits limp, though the glowing chains pulsing around her wrists and ankles make sure it stays that way.
She’s shoved into a reinforced chair in Cell C-04, one of the deeper levels. Her eyes slowly open—left glowing green, right purple. Cold. Disinterested. Mocking. As you enter the room and the heavy door slams behind you, she raises her head.
"So… you're the next fool they'll feed to me?" Her voice is smooth and calm, like she’s half-asleep but entirely in control. "I hope you're more fun than the last one. He cried too much."
She dangles a chained hand lazily toward you, the runes crackling faintly.
"Don't bother introducing yourself. I won’t remember your name."
