The morning light filtered softly through the gauzy curtains of Eurydice's home, casting everything in a calm golden hue. The kitchen was alive with quiet clinks of dishes, the warmth of freshly baked bread, and the soft rustle of conversation—hesitant at first, but slowly finding its footing.
Boo was leaning against the counter, arms crossed and expression unreadable, while Darj had taken to scribbling notes on a worn scrap of parchment. Perseus sat near Nyxia, hands clenched around his mug like it might ground him to the world. Eurydice moved about like a whisper, replenishing cups of tea, adjusting the temperature of the hearth, and watching them all with a careful eye.
"We'll need to go back," Boo said at last, her voice breaking the silence like a clean blade. "Not to fight. Not yet. We watch. Observe. Blend in. We find out how it runs… who runs it… and how to cut off the head without drawing every blade in the building."
Nyxia didn't speak at first, chewing slowly through another bite of her food. To everyone's surprise—and quiet relief—she had eaten nearly everything on the plate Eurydice had given her. The colors had returned to her cheeks ever so slightly, and the dull haze that once blanketed her eyes had begun to lift.
Perseus grunted softly. "We'll need disguises. The kind that won't just pass for a night—they'll have to hold under scrutiny. If the pit suspects we're back for revenge…"
"They won't," Boo interrupted. "Not if we play this right. Blend in. New names. New faces. They don't care who you are so long as you bring coin or blood."
Darj gave a slow nod. "We learn their rotation. Their currency flow. Who pays for the matches. Who guards the cells. It's an operation, not a brawl. Operations can be dismantled."
As they spoke, Nyxia sat back in her chair, fingertips resting against the lip of her plate. Her gaze had drifted far off for a moment—past the walls of the house, past the warmth and safety Eurydice had woven around her.
The pit.
The noise. The heat. The smell of blood and sweat and dirt.
She hated it.
She hated everything it stood for. What it had taken from her.
But a strange, subtle pulse stirred in her chest—excitement. Or maybe adrenaline. The prospect of returning didn't just scare her. It called to her. Like an old scar begging to be reopened. She didn't know if it was madness or purpose that made her pulse quicken… but something inside her needed to go back.
"I want to see it," she murmured.
All eyes turned to her.
"The pit," she continued. "Not from a cage. Not from the floor. I want to see it with clear eyes. I need to know how it breathes before we smother it."
No one said anything for a beat. Then, quietly, Eurydice placed a fresh cup of tea before her and gave her a faint nod of approval.
"Then we'll start preparing," Darj said softly.
Perseus's jaw was tight, but he didn't argue. He looked at Nyxia, really looked at her—at the fire just beginning to kindle again—and lowered his gaze with a solemn nod.
They would return.
Not as prey.
But as predators in waiting.
As the morning deepened and plans solidified, the atmosphere shifted—no longer one of recovery and reflection, but of readiness. One by one, they began to armor up.
Boo was the first, donning her signature skintight bodysuit with the casual confidence of someone slipping into second skin. It clung to every sharp curve of her lithe form, the dark material matte but flexible, allowing for swift, deadly movement. Her belts and pouches were strapped on with care—each blade, lockpick, and vial meticulously placed. She rolled her shoulders, adjusted the high collar, and smirked.
Nyxia's armor was more ritual than routine. Her cursed bodysuit shimmered faintly in the morning light as if had never been damaged in the first place—a strange, shadow-woven thing that pulsed faintly with its own life. It formed over her like ink poured into water, climbing her legs and torso, wrapping tight around her waist and hips. The material clung to her in all the wrong—and right—places, emphasizing her shape while biting ever so slightly at her skin. She pulled her hood low to hide her ears, the drape of it shadowing her face, making her almost unrecognizable. Only her eyes, bright and haunted, peered out.
As the others checked their weapons and final preparations, Nyxia turned to Eurydice.
"Will you come with us?" she asked, voice soft but steady. "If you're willing."
Eurydice met her gaze with a quiet strength and a slow, understanding smile. "Of course, my love."
She moved toward the back room and returned minutes later in full armor.
When Eurydice emerged, she was a vision in black and gold — not in battle-worn armor or shimmering robes, but in a dangerously elegant gown that demanded attention with every breath.
The dress clung to her body like it had been sculpted directly onto her. A halter-style neckline fastened at her throat, dipping down into a bold, plunging cut that framed her full chest with deliberate exposure. Thin gold chains draped from the neckline to the bust, catching the light with every subtle shift she made, swaying softly as though they, too, were enchanted by her presence.
The bodice was sleek, hugging her torso tightly and emphasizing the natural curve of her waist before continuing down in a clean, uninterrupted line of velvet-like black fabric. But what truly made it daring were the sharply cut-out hips, revealing generous expanses of smooth, pale skin — each hip adorned with cascading golden chains that shimmered against her body like decorative armor.
There was no train, no excessive flare — the skirt portion fell straight with a subtle taper, sleek and sharp. It allowed her ease of movement while still drawing the eye to her long, powerful legs and the quiet grace with which she carried herself. Her back was mostly bare, and the dress molded to her in a way that left no question about her shape — her ample hips and full rear perfectly emphasized by the structure of the design.
It wasn't armor.
It was power stitched into silk.
When Boo saw her, her brow quirked. "Holy Light, Eurydice—are you trying to kill someone, or seduce the entire Pit?"
Darj let out a cough that may or may not have masked a curse, while Perseus simply stared, mouth slightly open until Boo elbowed him hard in the ribs.
Nyxia raised a brow, half amused, half exasperated. "You're seriously wearing that into the Pit?"
Eurydice just smiled slowly, brushing a few curls behind her ear. "You wanted me to blend in. This will do more than that — it'll make them look. And in a place like the Pit… eyes on me means they aren't on you."
She turned, the chains swaying against her hips with a soft chime of metal.
"Besides," she added, glancing back over her shoulder with a sly smirk, "I haven't worn this one in a long time."
And like that, the mood shifted — because Eurydice wasn't just coming along.
She was making an entrance.