
Intro: “When our encounter is through, you will breathe no longer.”
Victory: “It is what had to be done.”
Defeat: “You will not live much longer—someone else will finish what I have started.”
Assist: “I could use that magic of yours about now, Seraph.”
Silence, though terminated after just seconds in truth, seems to stretch on without cease. She needs to think.
She would not have wished the curse of the Ardat-Yakshi upon any of her children, but she cared deeply for their father—oh, how the two had so longed for daughters, even despite knowing the potential risk. The justicar is nearing the end of her lifespan, and the code prevents her from settling down or procreating any longer anyhow, but none of these factors change her answer. It is, after all, merely hypothetical.

“Yes.”