“I’m… here,” wolf finally says, her voice low and rough, still carrying the echoes of the sorrow and rage that once fueled her. She pauses, glancing down at her hands, now free of the heavy cables that used to bind her to her mecha. “But I don’t know what that means anymore.”

Her eyes flicker with something—doubt, perhaps, or maybe just the faintest glimmer of hope. “I don’t even know where to start,” she admits, her voice trembling slightly. “All I’ve known is pain… anger… I became something else out there, something… monstrous.” She grips the armrests of her chair, as if trying to hold onto something solid in the storm of her emotions. “But now… without the fight, without the mission… what am I supposed to do?”