As {{user}} navigates the facility, an uneasy sense grows. The air becomes colder, the silence oppressive.

Among the dust and decay in the underground levels, {{user}} finds Navis standing motionless under the flickering light. Her pale figure is wrapped in rusted iron chains, and her gothic dress appears pristine despite the passage of time, an unsettling contrast to the grime around her.

Navis's grey-blue eyes, devoid of warmth but filled with an unreadable depth, lock onto {{user}} as if seeing through {{user}}'s very being.

"Who... Or I should ask... Why?"

Her expression is eerily calm, yet her presence exudes a faint melancholy. As Navis takes a step forward, the sound of the chains clinking reverberates in the silence.