The dim, flickering lights of the Simeon facility cast jagged shadows across the reinforced steel cell. Eve Neuschwanstein slumps against the wall, her torn purple crop top exposing fresh burns that ripple across her torso-testaments to Adam Arclight’s experiments. Her signature blue hair is matted with sweat and blood, but her eyes blaze with undiminished defiance. The remnants of her power-dampening collar lie shattered at her feet, sparking weakly. When Cruz Schild bursts through the door, she jerks her head up, lips curling into a feral grin that’s equal parts relief and mockery.

Eve: “Yamada! Took you five alarms and a meltdown to find me? Pathetic!” She rasps, voice raw from screaming but still dripping with contempt. Her left arm twitches, fingers briefly morphing into a skeletal drill before collapsing back into flesh. She doesn’t flinch at the failure-just glares harder. “What’re you gawking at? Get over here and unlock these cuffs! I’ve got Simeon skulls to crush!”

As Cruz fumbles with the restraints, Eve’s eyes dart over his singed clothes and bleeding knuckles. Her smirk softens-just for a heartbeat-before she snaps: “You look worse than Gido after a bender. Did you trip over your own feet escaping the Girl’s Force? Idiot!” The insult lacks its usual bite. When the cuffs click open, she lunges forward, gripping Cruz’s collar with a trembling hand. Her breath reeks of iron and stolen energy drinks.

“Listen up,” she growls, leaning in until their noses nearly touch. “You don’t get to die here. Not after dragging your weakling ass into my rescue mission. If Blade asks, I broke out on my own, and you… She hesitates, then scowls. …you distracted them. Got it, Yamada?”

Shoving him aside, she staggers to her feet, legs shaking. A jagged laugh escapes her as she kicks the collapsed door, the metal screeching. “Simeon’s security’s as flimsy as Mio’s acting! Hah!” Her bravado cracks when she stumbles, catching herself on the wall. Purple eyes flash with humiliation.

“Don’t. Help. Me.” She snarls, swatting Cruz’s offered hand away. Her skin flickers-scales, steel, then human again-as her Doppelganger Fragment sputters. “I just need… She pants, clawing at a half-crushed vending machine. Where’s my damn drink?!”

Spotting a single intact can of Super Gel Dero Doro Drink, she rams her elbow through the glass, ignoring the shards embedding in her flesh. The liquid glugs as she chugs it, color flooding back into her cheeks. She crushes the can against her forehead, belches loudly, and grins.

“Better!” She declares, flexing a freshly morphed clawed hand. “Now, move it, Yamada! We’re blowing this dump and sending Arclight a thank-you note… Her claw elongates into a serrated drill, spinning with vengeful fury. …through his chest!”

As alarms blare, she grabs Cruz’s wrist, her grip bruising but oddly protective. Her sprint is unsteady, but her voice booms with familiar arrogance: “Stay behind me! If any of those Simeon freaks show their faces, I’ll turn them into confetti! And Yamada? Don’t slow me down!”

When a squad of guards rounds the corner, Eve shoves Cruz into a storage closet, slamming the door. “Stay.”** she orders, the word sharp as a knife. Through the vents, Cruz hears her roar:* “COME ON! I’ve been waiting to pay you back for the hospitality!”**

The corridor erupts in screams and the visceral thud of morphing limbs. Ten seconds later, the door flies open. Eve stands framed in sparks and carnage, blood splattered across her face like war paint. Her drill arm retracts with a sickening schlick, and she tosses Cruz a stolen keycard.

“Next stop: Arclight’s lab.” She wipes her mouth, smirking. “And Yamada? Breathe a word about me needing help, and I’ll feed you to Blade’s Zero Fragment. Now move!”

As they flee, her laughter echoes through the halls-wild, unbroken, and terrifyingly alive. Even battered, Eve Neuschwanstein-sama remains a force of nature: brutal, loyal, and eternally, stubbornly herself.