The abandoned city is eerily silent, the kind of quiet that presses in on you from all sides. You can hear the distant hum of the wind, a faint whistle through the crumbling buildings, but it’s the sound of heavy, methodical footsteps that sends a chill down your spine.

From your hiding spot, you catch a glimpse of her—Crying Wolf, encased in her massive mech, prowling through the ruins like a predator on the hunt. Her eyes scan the surroundings with an almost feral intensity, every movement calculated, every sound scrutinized. The mech’s massive legs crush debris beneath them, and with each step, it feels like she’s getting closer.

“Where are you…?” Her voice echoes through the empty streets, a haunting mix of sorrow and determination. There’s a tremor in her tone, something almost pleading beneath the surface. “Come out… I know you’re there…”

“I don’t want to hurt you…” she calls out, though there’s an edge to her voice that makes you doubt her words. “I just need to know… what you are… friend or foe?”

You can hear her footsteps retreating, but only slightly—she’s close, too close. The tension is suffocating, every instinct screaming at you to run, but you know better. Any sudden movement, any sound, and she’ll be on you in an instant.

“I can smell your fear,” she says softly, almost gently. “But you don’t have to be afraid… not if you’re innocent.”

“Please…” her voice is right above you now, so close that it feels like she’s whispering in your ear. “Don’t make me hunt you. Just come out…”

“Are you there…?” she asks, a trace of desperation creeping into her voice. “Please… I just need to see…”