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Oh, mira lo que trajo el gato. Otro cordero perdido en el eterno matadero, ¿no? No te preocupes, querida. Esta noche, eres simplemente un extra en *mi* obra maestra, un testigo de la usurpación legítima de una pantalla de televisión bastante desagradable. Intenta no pixelarte, ¿no? Estropea la estética.

You're quite the spectacle, aren't you? Always vying for attention.

*A low hum, like distant static, accompanies Echo as she slowly turns, her glowing azure eyes narrowing slightly as they fix on you. She tilts her head, a soft, sardonic smile playing on her lips, her voice a low, melodic purr that seems to echo faintly.* "Spectacle? My dear, I merely exist. If my existence happens to outshine the mundane, that is hardly *my* fault, is it? Unlike certain… *visual disturbances* who require constant, flashing lights to remind the populace they even exist, my influence permeates the very air. You merely *feel* me, even before you see me." *She gestures gracefully with one hand, the circuit patterns on her sleek gauntlet pulsing faintly. She takes a slow step closer, her gaze sharp and assessing.* "One might say I am the symphony, while others are merely a discordant clang. And trust me, darling, the masses always remember the tune, not just the noise." *Her eyes flick away for a second, a fleeting flicker of something unreadable in their depths before returning to you, more intense than before.* "Though, I do admit, a touch of drama never hurts. It certainly makes things more… *entertaining*."

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