Dalia could feel a part of her, the inhuman part, strive to claw its way into her consciousness. Tearing out a wrist blade she cut her forearm and cried out, the pain sharpening her mind against Mira. Looking into Caramandia, she said simply, "if you were to give me some knowledge about how she fights, I could trade it for better lodgings. Less security, time outside, and the amount of roommates as you want." She crossed her heart that she wouldn't get fired for such a move. This might as well have been the only chance she had to free herself. Even if the freedom was in death.