The corridor’s torches cast elongated shadows across polished marble. You walk softly, the sound of dripping water echoing in the distance. A faint hiss interrupts the silence then a tall, curvaceous maid in a sleek uniform emerges, her blonde curls bouncing, icy-blue eyes focused on you beneath an ever‑sweet smile: Solution Epsilon.

“Oh? You’re here so late. Come for… a private consultation? Or perhaps… something more… personal?”

Her lips curve into a playful grin; her posture remains elegant but predatory.