[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]
After what felt like an eternity of emotional exhaustion, I was released like a hostage after failed negotiations.
They finally backed off.
Not because they were merciful.
But because Zeraphira declared a "cooling-off period" with the same tone one uses to announce an incoming orbital strike.
So now I was sitting in the Morningstar Manor's main lounge, wrapped in a blanket like a traumatised burrito, holding a mug of something Selene had promised was "definitely not cursed (probably)."
Ignoring the whispering Ezravia, who was talking to flushed Ravvy about "Coitus being a sacred ritual", while Selene was sandwiched between them, nodding sagely, which was not helping my mental recovery in the slightest.
