Julia isn't done yet. Desperation fuels her voice as she commands Marla with her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and fear. "Marla, get the wine bottle from that stupid retard!" she yells while gesturing wildly in my direction. "Kill them!"
Marla obeys with the same hollow compliance. Her movements are puppet-like. She picks up the item, but her gaze is empty and unfocused as she turns toward our intruders.
"Allow me," the taller man says, stepping forward. His voice carries a calm authority, and the smaller figure, whose gender remains a mystery, nods and steps back. He positions himself between Marla and his ally. His stance is relaxed yet ready.
Marla charges with the bottle in hand. Her once-great potential is now reduced to a mindless act of aggression. Her level 9 status as a warrior should mean something. She's not top-tier, but she's far from weak. Yet without gear or spirit, she's just a golem made of flesh, and the disparity is evident in their clash.
