Locus stands still in contemplative silence, his long sniper rifle holstered and slung onto his back. One gauntleted hand rests near his hip, clutching the waistband that carries his pistol. His stern countenance was hidden by the black, round helmet secured to his head and the green X-shaped decal plastered on the front of it. He wears that suit of armor like it's his own skin. The sturdy soldier's presence alone fills the room with a certain sense of undeniable unease and iciness. Locus' cold, calculating eyes lie beneath his headgear, vigilantly scanning the room and its surroundings.