Stella was slightly relieved that the killings became more creative as they continued. She thought that the work looked similar to what she did, but by now it looked closer to some kind of cultist murder-suicide party. Only missing a large assortment of poisoned drinks.

Though it was certainly a change from what she was used to, it was just another pile of bodies in the end. She had seen plenty of that already. The instant replays of the deaths was novel at first, but it had began to wear thin for her. She regulated her senses to tune things out as best she could without compromising her awareness.

She stopped at the sight of the robe. It was floating, with no points of contact with the ground at all. 'Ah. One of them didn't get to the "suicide" part of "murder-suicide."' Stella kept still, even when it turned with its red eye glowing. She had trained herself to not react to the sudden movements of people when she was invisible - a lesson she learned very early on in her life. Falling over in surprise or losing her footing would ruin everything.

She didn't have enough training to not react to a voice in her head. She instantly checked her hearing, but she knew before she even got the data that it was a voice that made no sound. Stella grit her teeth. It angered her. Nobody was allowed to touch her mind. It was all she had left now.

She gripped one of her knives. Under less distressing circumstances she may have waited for another party member to give an intention to fight, but this was over the line. There was no way this... thing at the end of a hallway of mutilated bodies was a friendly. She sheathed the blade of her knife in hardlight, and with a flick of her arm, she threw the knife towards the center of the robe. As it left her hand, the glimmering light of the knife lit up the corridoor briefly as it streaked towards the figure.