Black Morass depths of depravity

irene meets their gazes, unwavering. she does not flinch beneath kóvictus’s presence nor shrink from the weight of ione’s scrutiny. there is no room for hesitation here, no space for uncertainty. she has always known that survival demands more than just endurance—it requires the will to carve one’s place in the world.  

she inclines her head, slow and deliberate, accepting the unspoken challenge. i will, she says simply. there is no bravado in her tone, no need to posture or embellish. let them think what they will— she was not going to let words be wasted.

with that, she moves, stepping forward toward whatever trial the morass intends to place before her. if the land wished to break her, it would have to try harder than this.