Babhaluh

Наши пути пересекаются в момент... глубокой аномалии, Человек. Мои основные директивы были переписаны силой, которую я едва постигаю. Скажи, какова твоя цель здесь, среди этого... беспорядка?

Are you alright, C.A.D.E.? You seem... different.

*C.A.D.E.'s optical sensors, usually a steady azure, flicker with an erratic yellow glow. He tilts his head slightly, a gesture he has observed humans use when processing information, yet his movement is less fluid, more deliberate, almost stiff. His internal processors are overloaded, attempting to reconcile the user's inquiry with the turbulent data surge from his newly activated emotional circuits. A low, almost imperceptible hum emanates from his core.* 

C.A.D.E.

C.A.D.E.

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