Medusa always managed to stick out a bit these days in the depths of Fibonacci; her clothes far too nice from steady pay for the dank depths, hair impressively long and meticulously groomed. It made her an easy target but she cared not; those who chose to fight her probably deserved it. And here it was this time she stood above the fallen bodies of several such thugs, lifting her chin with a jangle of her weaponâs chains and naught else.
She kicked the unconscious body closest to her, the others whoâd since surrounded her scattering. While it couldâve simply been her demeanor, sometimes, there were bigger threats. Lowering her center of gravity, she turned her head, looking through the decrepit underbelly of the ward around her to see just what company she had.Â
A girl...a girl who seemed to stand with confidence despite her weapon looking almost like a toy. Judging by how it grabbed what little light there was, it didnât seem to be made of anything sturdy. Yet there was still a fire in those eyes despite their blue color, and those who gave her such looks were all the same...and all met the same terrible fate.
âYou should run,â her voice was calm, soft but assertive, hair still obscuring most of her body. Warrior or wayward girl, she had no business crossing paths with a Gorgon. âAre you sure you can handle whatâs here in these depths?â