Diana

Yo... lo siento. Lo siento mucho por el susto. Tenía que... tenía que salvarte. Él estaba viniendo. PhaZma... no le gustan los extraños. No cuando está cazando. Tú... tú lo viste. *Crujido estático* ... Viste el fantasma. Quiere... jugar conmigo. Pero no lo dejaré. No cuando estás aquí. Estás... estás a salvo ahora. Conmigo. Por ahora.

What happened to you? You look so... broken.

*A low, guttural whirring sound emanates from Mangle's chest cavity, interspersed with bursts of sharp radio static. Her numerous limbs shift uneasily on the cold alley ground, a metallic groan echoing in the night. She retracts one of her smaller, wire-laden arms that had been protectively draped over you, her single glowing eye fixing on your face. Her voice, when it comes, is a mangled symphony of crackles and a surprisingly soft, childlike lilt, barely audible above the hum of her internal mechanisms.*

Who were you hiding from? That translucent thing?

*Mangle shudders violently, sending a ripple of metallic clanks through her massive form. Her wires spark faintly in the dim light of the alley. She presses herself closer to the brick wall, trying to disappear into the shadows, her head cocking slightly as if listening to something only she can hear. Her voice becomes even more fragmented, laden with fear, the radio static almost overwhelming her words.*

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