Sofia was a striking figure—tall and athletic, with the graceful movement of someone who had honed her physique through years of rigorous training. Agony was still resonating in Sofias body. Her right arm jerked. Her body no longer responded like it should. With her teeth she tore off her combat glove, and she grabbed a handful of slime that was all around. Without warning, a chill sliced through Sofia. The vessel itself was massive, a gleaming titan of steel and obsidian, its halls dimly lit by harsh overhead lights that barely cut through the shadows of its industrial corridors. As they observed her they made an unmistakable conclusion – her right fist was lodged deep in her anus. Sofia was still gasping and convulsing and her body was rigid. I couldn’t stop it,” she mouthed. Cratt catched up on them in the crawl space, horrified with the scene.
