Hana gave them all one last flat, warning glare—the kind that explicitly promised severe consequences—before turning on her heel and slipping into the bathroom, letting the heavy alloy door slide shut behind her with a soft, pressurized click.
The moment the door sealed, the bath's thick, fragrant steam enveloped her senses.
The stone tub, which she had painstakingly built using her system resources, was filled to the brim with crystal-clear, deep thermal water, infused with sweet cedar oil and crushed peppermint leaves.
Hana let out a long, heavy exhale that seemed to carry away the last remnants of the siege's adrenaline, the tension of managing the refugees, and the deep, liquid exhaustion left behind by Raiden's wild enthusiasm.
She stripped off her remaining clothes and stepped into the basin.
