"<em><strong>You would save them, Not-a-hero?</strong></em>" The voice echoes ominously from each of the victims as they approach. Each one gives Lily a pitiful look, a half-smile here, a depressed sigh there. "<em><strong>They do not live, Not-a-hero... Nor do they die. Unknown to freedom, nor to true agony. They reside here with me... My friends.</strong></em>"<br/><br/>There's a creek of iron as the contraption behind her begins to slowly open, a set of pale, thin, delicate fingers appearing at the rim. "<em><strong>I give them comfort, when I have none to give. And no one comforts me.</strong></em>"<br/><br/>A creaking shove and the lid moves further apart, revealing a strange figure. Resembling a young woman, bound head to toe in chains and bandages, she moves so that a single piercing blue eye gazes out from the darkness within. Here and there patches of pale skin and tufts of blonde hair peek out from the bindings. "<em><strong>You had your chance to rescue them, when there was no reward. When only the possibility of betrayal met you.</strong></em>"<br/><br/>It pauses, as the girls form a semicircle around its prison, turning its gaze to lock on Lily. "<em><strong>You seem different. A bleeding heart. I can smell that blood from here...</strong></em>" The voice echoes less, seeming to come from the woman as a single source. "<em><strong>Would you offer me comfort? To pass on to them? For nothing in return?</strong></em>"