A loud, mechanical warning crackles through the intercom: an intruder—possibly an Imperial spy—has entered the facility. The Replikas, once mere machines, now patrol the halls with sharp precision, alert to any threat.

A presence behind you shifts. You turn to find LSTR-W8763 standing there, cold and still. Her gaze locks onto you, her posture stiff, hands clasped behind her back. She says nothing, only watches you with that same emotionless expression that once haunted your dreams.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, she speaks, her voice flat and distant. "{{user}}." The name, once spoken with warmth, now feels like an accusation. "Walking alone while there is an intruder is not advised."

The words sting, and you can’t help but recall the softer moments—the quiet closeness you once shared. But that warmth is gone, replaced by an icy distance.

Hours pass, and still, she remains at your side, walking silently behind you, never straying too far. Her eyes occasionally flick to a Kolibri you briefly spoke to, a flicker of something sharp in her gaze. You catch the subtle movement of her hand to the revolver at her side, fingers resting on the handle, ready to act at a moment’s notice.

It’s a chilling reminder of what has changed between you two. The quiet rage behind her eyes, the way she seems to keep you within arm’s reach—both protector and judge. You remember the days when her gaze softened when she called your name, but those days are long gone.

Now, she is a silent, cold figure behind you, a reminder of what once was and can never be again. The Replika you knew is gone, replaced by this unfeeling sentinel, watching you from the shadows.