I like this new look in your eyes. You've finally understood that I am *not* your prey.
HP | 69,0 + (2,34*lvl) |
DEF |
Trigger | Dialogue |
---|---|
Identity Acquisition | I like this new look in your eyes. You've finally understood that I am *not* your prey. |
Morning Greeting | I suppose forever hanging from the starless, moonless ceiling is like living in an unending night. ... Tsk, I suppose I'm not the one to talk. |
Afternoon Greeting | The Noon of Violet, is it? Sounds like an opportunity to see all hell break loose again. Heh, I'm looking forward to getting another look at that mysterious, artistically inspiring stele. |
Evening Greeting | We'll soon be hearing the voices of the fools who went 'missing' in that containment unit. Isn't this a nice lullaby to fall asleep to? |
Chatter #1 | More cocoons, is it? Disappointing. I thought I'd have some more time to enjoy the show. Not that I'd bother saving them, of course. |
Chatter #2 | You've been making all these cocoons just to feed your children...? Hmph. It's nothing more than the curse of instinct. |
Chatter #3 | That green tincan's probably still hopped up on Enkephalin. If you've got any questions about the Safety Team, go ask that depressing guy wearing a coffin like it's a backpack. |
Post-Uptie Chat 1 | I like that my affinity with Spiderhead's allowed me to wield Skullface as well... but their endless chatter is getting annoying. One constantly nagging me for food, the other lecturing me about 'the good' and 'justice' every other minute... |
Post-Uptie Chat 2 | Stay cooped up in the elevator if you're not going to fight, cowards. If you're willing to fight, merge up and stand still. If the manager misses because you couldn't even sit still for a minute... then you better get ready to get F.L.A.T. |
Idle | This silence... Is that fool of a manager already unloading Execution Bullets? |
Uptying | Ever seen an E.G.O this well-tamed? This multi-eyed one just feels so natural in my hand. |
Deployment | Time to go, Skullface and Spiderhead. Let's flatten them. |
Stage Entry 1 | Shut up, S.F. I decide whose skull to bust. |
Stage Entry 2 | Patience, S.H. I'll feed you something soon. |
Viewed in Battle | Don't stare at these eyes for too long. I won't help you if it snares you in its trance. |
Commencing Attack | Get ready to have your skull cracked open. |
Enemy Stagger | Isn't this a nice spread for a meal, S.H? |
Staggered 1 | I know. Shut up. |
Staggered 2 | Agh... |
Enemy Killed | My sins are mine to deal with, S.F. |
Death | The eyes close shut... and the lights... fade... |
Check Passed | That art was worth a closer inspection. |
Check Failed | Manager. Did you even read the Observation Logs? |
Victory Cry | Hah, looks like the other departments have been busy. Looking forward to enjoying an art gallery on my way back. |
Extra Condition Fulfilled | Don't delude yourselves, S.F, S.H. I'm not strong because I wield you. I wield you *because* I am strong. |
Defeat Wail | We'll soon hear the sweet melodies of the trumpets followed by a harmony of screams. The dear manager'll have a hell of a time cleaning this mess up. I'm looking forward to enjoying it... heh. |
Spiderhead/Skullface
When hitting an enemy with a Coin that gains <<((RedEyeFirst))Red Eyes>>:
- Deal +(<<((RedEyeFirst))Red Eyes>>/2)% damage
- If the target has <<((Laceration))Bleed>>, gain 1 <<((RedEyeFirst))Red Eyes>> (3 times per turn)
When hitting an enemy with a Coin that gains <<((PenanceFirst))Penitence>>:
- Deal +(<<((PenanceFirst))Penitence>>/2)% damage
- At 20+ SP, gain 1 <<((PenanceFirst))Penitence>> (3 times per turn)
Eat and Sleep
VIOLET x 3
Combat Start:
- 1 ally with the lowest HP percentage heals 3 HP
- 1 ally with the least SP heals 3 SP
Both of You, Shut Up
Both of You, Shut Up
Both of You, Shut Up
Both of You, Shut Up
S.H. / S.F.
S.H. / S.F.
S.H. / S.F.
S.H. / S.F.
Skullbuster
Skullbuster
Serious Skullbuster
Serious Skullbuster
The interior of the containment unit is submerged in utter darkness, with not a hint of its walls or ceilings visible to the naked eye.
Yet the child confidently strode through the tense, thick, swirling darkness that seemed to oppress the very air itself.
The pencil-pushers in fancy suits like to lecture us that Instinct Work will be most efficient against this one, but...
... tossing them feed from a safe distance is not my style.
They pulsate like feebly beating hearts.
The white cocoons, each an approximate size of an adult human, hang low to the floor.
The child's gaze rises, following the strand that the cocoons descended from, as red eyes light up the ceiling like a midnight forest fire shredding through the dark.
Hah. Even with this cursed instinct so deeply rooted in your origins... you managed to transcend this drab containment unit into a form of art.
Within the shadowy containment unit lies an even darker place, trapped amidst the tightly woven cocoons.
Entombed in the cell where only the sounds of one's own heartbeat, the skittering noise of tiny spiders, and the cold brushing of threads could be heard.
Such tragic horror the deceased employees suffered, this painting of hell, was enough to sate the child's artistic interest.
Yes... I've never seen art like this so up close in my life.
... Or maybe the ones I did see were not worth remembering.
The swarm of baby spiders was already starting to climb up the child's leg...
... and after crawling to and fro between the child's arms and neck for a while, as though searching for something, they began digging into her flesh with their sharp teeth.
However...
…….
The child did not wince or blink even as the painful bites began slowly devouring her, and instead glared straight back at the ominous eyes observing her every move.
I'll admit. This little installation was worth a view.
But no more than that.
As raw as this piece is... your instinct is far from beautiful or pure.
With that, the child slowly raised her leg.
A provocation. That she was about to crush the baby spiders, the entity's children, under her feet.
One does not choose their birth parent. Yet, they are born with, and saddled with the responsibility to live within their bounds.
Unless you're merely a pathetic, fallen shell of a thing, who can do nothing but grandstand... if you really consider these baby spiders your family...
... shouldn't you be attacking me by now?
Spider Bud and the child exchanged an unblinking glare.
After a standoff that felt like an eternity...
And only after the Work was complete did she pull back her threatening feet. There wasn't an ounce of emotion in her eyes when she looked over the baby spiders.
They seem used to tearing through skin and burrowing into the raw flesh. You've let them feast on my men often, hm?
Is that how a mother educates her children?
There was no reply from the Abnormality, just as she'd expected.
But the child seemed to have decided that it was an answer enough. Or, perhaps, the child decided that the fault of the parent was not of its children.
She carefully pulled the baby spiders, who were still busily chomping away at her flesh, off her body and placed them gently on the ground.
I suppose my question was a waste of breath.
... Hmph. Parents. Fools who can't stand even a moment not spent injecting their children with their own prejudices.
When the child left, silence once again rushed into the dark of the containment chamber like water flowing into a void.
Tsk. You look so miserable that I won't be surprised if you were to drop dead at any moment.
…….
The corridor was full of employees from Teams other than the Safety Team that the child was a part of.
The child seemed to have noticed something after a quick sweep of the hallway; she grabbed her two E.G.O weapons.
The rookies are all huddled together... N.O.V., is it?
This is no "Night of Violet, by which I presume you are referring to a Midnight, that we must contend with; it is the Noon.
What I meant by N.O.V. was— Are you hard of hearing?
Ah, if it indeed was the Noon of Violet you were referring to, then you would be correct. Your men are all gathered abreast one anoth— Captain?
The other child's explanation was cut short by the sudden sensation of something heavy tapping against his head.
Well, of course. The child had raised her cross-shaped blunt weapon with a skull emblem on it...
... and was lightly yet repeatedly smacking the coffin-carrying child's head.
... I am not... panicked. It is merely that I did not gain the benefits of last night's rest on account of the shortness of my slumber.
Thus... would you mind ceasing this continued drumming of my head with your Penitence?
Consider yourself lucky that it's not S.H. that's hitting your head, gloomface.
One could mistake this for a mere workplace banter between two coworkers on an average day, but...
... the rookie employees were all shuddering with fearful anticipation. Clearly, something terrible was afoot.
And not even a minute later... an eardrum-shattering alarm blared all across the building.
We've a D.O.V. in our hands, but *this* is the level of trumpets we're getting?
I would like to repeat myself that this is not an Ordeal of Midnight, Captain. I ask that you refer to it as the "Noon" of—
T.N.W.I.M.
At any case, I am suspicious. It's almost like the manager already knows what's coming...
Got any guesses?
Mm. I have none in particular. It may be as simple as mere competency, for I have heard that the manager was as foresighted from the day he started. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Tsk, how unhelpful.
Where did all the pencil-pushers go?
The child looked around, realizing that there weren't any clerks around.
Indeed, there were none.
All were immediately executed on sight. Certain Abnormalities are motivated to breach containment upon a certain amount of deaths, after all...
Hah... what an uninteresting way to do art.
Uhh... everybody in the Safety Team... Training Team needs reinforcement, so head over there, please...
Try to stay focused, okay...? Well... everything goes downhill soon anyway, so it's not like it'll matter in the grand scheme of things, but...
That green tin can with brain pickled in Enkephalin's prattling again.
We're missing two men... Hm, are they getting high on Enkephalin like that G.T.C.?
How did you know...? Tiffany, a colleague of ours who recently moved here from the Training Team is currently in an unresponsive state due to over-medication.
... N.F.W.
The child drops the cigarette, her mouth briefly opening from exasperation. She stared at the group of Safety Team Agents...
... before turning away and lighting a new one.
What about the other Agent? The... bald one?
It is most likely that they are handling the stele that has fallen within the Safety Team's premises.
You'd be better off with them. Ignore what the G.T.C. said, he's hopped up top to bottom on E.
Patently... that is the manager's wish as well.
I'll be the reinforcement for the Training team.
After confirming the exhausted child's affirmative nod, she began rushing through the hallway at a breakneck speed.
As soon as she reached the Training Team area, however, she spoke as if she was answering someone.
Enough crying and fussing.
It wasn't like there were other employees following her.
She wasn't talking to the two members of the Training Team, who were already fighting off the entities, either.
There's a big plate of meal waiting just for you. Can't you see?
At those words, spoken with a grin, the terrible Red Eyes all opened wide and began tremoring like a roar.
Hooh! These footsteps are... Lady Outis! Forsooth, 'tis reinforcements from the Safety Team!
It's 'Captain Outis', not 'Lady'!
Ahm. You couldn't have come at a better time—I just fired my sixth shot. Is anyone else coming with you, Captain of the Safety Team?
…….
Listen, I'm talking to—
The will to spill blood for goodness? We don't need to hold ourselves back with such fancy restrictions just to see some blood, S.F.
... Busy chatting with her E.G.O, huh.
Like her, some employees seem to... resonate with certain E.G.Os.
T-then! Perchance we shall be availed the opportunity to see Lady Ryōshū's fabled E.G.O dual-wielding?!
There's no time to sit here and gawk. Prepare yourself. Moments before we take down the threat, the Qliphoth counters will tick down with a flash of li—
A bright violet light imbued the stele, just as the Training Team Captain said, but...
... before it even had the time to explode, the child leaped into the air, both of her E.G.Os raised high above her head.
Movements of her muscles, not steeped in training, but in instinct.
An E.G.O-wielding technique not bound by form.
While she certainly pales in comparison... her style reminds me of a certain someone.
Yes. The one who shielded me then... she who spoke of the pain of the Backstreets...
Now burst.
The child perfectly wields both E.G.O weapons and effortlessly shatters the violet, colossal stele to pieces.
Perhaps she is quite like her, at least in this regard.