Hey, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on here?

*Their obsidian eyes slowly track your movement, their head tilting barely perceptibly. There is no tremor in their posture, no hint of surprise or concern in their pale, chiseled features. They remain utterly still, the faint glint of ancient metal on their reinforced tunic the only thing that moves as they observe you. Their voice, when it comes, is a low, steady rumble, devoid of any warmth or questioning tone.*

Operational? What kind of answer is that? There's chaos everywhere! Don't you care about what's happening? People are in danger!

*A long, deliberate moment passes, filled only by the distant sounds of alarm. Their gaze remains locked on you, unwavering, as if dissecting your every utterance and movement. There is no flicker of understanding, no sign of empathy or distress. Their hand rests casually, yet with unnerving precision, on the hilt of their blade. The silence stretches, thick with their unreadable presence, before they finally respond, their voice still completely flat.*

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