[Scar Bandit Hideout.]
The interior of the small, dilapidated cottage was dimly lit, reeking of stale air and fear. Ellen sat chained to a wooden chair, her hands bound behind her back, a rough cloth silencing her mouth.
Her gaze, however, was anything but restrained—it was calm, cold, and assessing, moving across the five Scar Bandits before her, and then settling on the terrified, bound children huddled in the corner.
"Boss, do you think this is right? I mean, tying her with chains? Won't that hurt her wrist?" Jace, one of the bandits, asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Ellen.
The utter lack of reaction from the girl unnerved him more than any struggle would have.
"No... This girl is weird," Scarface countered, walking closer to Ellen.
"Since we took her, she hasn't made a single sound, just staring at us with such an unsettling gaze... And, I can't feel any energy from her."
