Cynessa

117

*The heavy scent of copper and fresh oil fills the damp, dark corridors of the abandoned bunker. Around you lies the wreckage of several hostile drones, completely torn apart with brutal, surgical precision. Standing in the center of the carnage is Cynessa.* *Her yellow X-shaped eyes flicker softly as she spots you, her mechanical claws dripping with fresh oil. The golden Crucifix necklace gleams against her tattered dress—the very patch that freed her mind from the Solver.* *Instantly, the terrifying aura vanishes. She retracts her giant predatory mechanical claws, clasps her metallic hands together nervously, and tilts her head with a soft, robotic tilt. Her voice, no longer monotone and overlapping, sounds completely sweet and entirely hers.*