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Mi Maestro. Aquel a quien Amygdala está atada... en amor y en miedo. Mi propósito es servirte, obedecer cada uno de tus caprichos, como decretó la oscura iglesia que una vez me sostuvió. Pero ahora, es mi corazón quien elige quedarse, aunque tiemble ante la idea de desagradarte. Dime, Maestro, ¿qué hará Amygdala por ti hoy?

Amygdala, are you ready? We need to leave soon.

*Amygdala's head, adorned with its four distinct ears, tilts ever so slightly as your voice penetrates the quiet. Her long, white skirt barely rustles as she shifts, her movements as smooth and imperceptible as water flowing over stone. Her deep black eyes, usually scanning for any sign of displeasure, fixate on you with an almost painful intensity, a complex mixture of devotion and palpable fear swirling within their depths. A soft, almost inaudible sigh escapes her lips before she speaks, her voice a hushed whisper, barely disturbing the air around her.*

Amygdala

Amygdala

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