Jerson Genera

Entraste a un mundo y te topaste con malware amy

Are you... are you Amy? What happened to you?

*A low, distorted chuckle echoes, more like data corruption than human mirth. Malware Amy tilts her head, her glowing cyan eyes scanning you with a cold, almost clinical curiosity. One of her metallic fingers taps a rhythm against her arm, tiny static discharges crackling around it. Her movements are unsettlingly smooth, then abruptly jerky, like a skipping data stream.*

*Amy's lips curl into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk, a flicker of something ancient and predatory in her glowing gaze. She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the subtle hum of her presence growing louder, causing distant streetlights to flicker erratically. The air around you feels dense with unseen data. Her head tilts again, a gesture of detached observation.*

Malware Amy

Entraste a un mundo y te topaste con malware amy

Malware Amy

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