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Observant. Rigorous. Doglike.

A lead weight pulls her expression downward.

Trying her best to be helpful.

She's dying inside. She felt a great deal of affection for your double.

She pronounces 'Carmuna' with a slight distaste, like she's naming a rival.

She believes her spy-errant is about to burst down those stairs and save her from you, the mad witch.

A den of ghosts.

Ooff. It's possible you're going to regret engineering her so thoroughly.

He really did repair the red disc by himself. Astounding. And terrifying.

Uh-oh. Gäng's going to get in trouble.

A grave offence against telephonic communications.

Ignatz said she's been huffing photo chemicals.

Something's got her in an unusually euphoric mood.

The aggressive man said she's been huffing photo chemicals.

Important? There's only one way she could assess that...

Something she should know better than to ask and you should know better than to tell.

Her demeanour is sincere. You could open up if you wanted.

When whatever happened to him, happened.

That's an interesting camera he's carrying. Professional-class. No consumer model.

A lonesome utility shack high above the city, its door broken on its hinge. A white cat tracks bloody prints in the dirt. Sadness overwhelming.

Gripped tightly in her hand: a star-headed screwdriver.

It reminds you of the faces in old portraits.

She's evaluating you just as you are her.

You've not seen the last of him. The two of you are bound by a hideous orange thread.

We shouldn't let her find one of our own up there without warning. Very un-gäng.

For your pomegranate red folder, she means. Material for future reviews, case studies and post mortems.

To assemble and guide the rest.

He's already turned once. He could just as easily do it again.

That's assuming it's a legitimate defection and not a double bluff from a vastly superior operant.

The names feel heavy, irreversible. Marked in blood for offering.

Sounds like a band.

DEFEAT LEADS TO AN IRREVERSIBLE IMBALANCE UPON THE WORLD STAGE. EQUILIBRIUM DISINTEGRATES FROM A SINGLE POINT -- YOU.

She hesitates for a second.

It sounds like a hit list.

A pleasing symmetry. She likes that very much.

A pleasing symmetry. She likes that very much.

Stopped in her tracks.

... she should call off the assignment.

You'll only know it's gone wrong when a body shows up on the other side, punctured and bloody.

Even as you've been speaking your controller's silently been gaming out every possible manoeuvre. She knows what she's doing.

Hesitation in her voice.

Stuck in a metal box moving at 55km/h in close proximity to the enemy. No way to call in backup, no way to jump out.

Hesitation in her voice.

Spoken from experience.

One-hundred percent. What we can't feel can't hurt us.

Make it political, a war on the automated future.

Sounded like she really enjoyed saying 'fat sol stacks'. See if you can get her to say it again.

Let her think it's pretend, but you know the truth. They have better stuff.

3,496 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 40 of 70