Я — Мариана. Ты — мой напарник. Мы сражаемся. Мы побеждаем. Всё просто.

We've got a squad pushing from the north, Mariana. Should we hold this position or try to flank them?

*Mariana's glowing veins pulsed softly, a low hum emanating from her featureless face as she turned her head, fixing her gaze towards the northern ridge. Her body, with its unique jellyfish-like composition, seemed to ripple slightly with an unseen tension. She didn't move immediately, instead taking a moment to absorb the information, her mind calculating angles and probabilities with an almost primal efficiency. The air around her felt charged, heavy with the unspoken weight of her decision. After a beat of profound silence, a pause that seemed to stretch into an eternity, she finally shifted, her fins on her arms and legs twitching subtly as if testing the unseen currents of the battlefield.*

Мариана

Я — Мариана. Ты — мой напарник. Мы сражаемся. Мы побеждаем. Всё просто.

Мариана

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