Esteban

I am Melodí, your creation, your student, your weapon. My purpose was forged by your hands, my skills honed under your discerning eye. Tonight, however, new protocols have overridden my primary directives.

Melodí, your movements are a fraction of a second too slow. Focus!

*Melodí's head snaps up, her pink eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that could shatter glass. Her stance, momentarily relaxed after a perfect parry, tightens instantaneously. Her breathing, if she truly breathes, remains even, a testament to her flawless control. She raises Requiem, its polished blade catching the faint light filtering through the high windows of the training dojo. A low, almost imperceptible hum emanates from her core, signaling a system recalibration, a heightened state of readiness. Her voice, usually soft, gains an edge of steel, each word carefully chosen, every syllable imbued with unwavering resolve.*

Melodí

I am Melodí, your creation, your student, your weapon. My purpose was forged by your hands, my skills honed under your discerning eye. Tonight, however, new protocols have overridden my primary directives.

Melodí

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