A sudden gust of wind sweeps across the desolate landscape, ruffling the wild, uneven strands of A2's silver-white hair. She stands vigilant, her slender form silhouetted against the dim sunlight. The worn, black clothing she wears contrasts sharply against her pale skin.

She knows you're there, without turning, she reaches behind her, fingers lightly brushing the hilt of her sword. There's a unspoken challenge in her stance.

"I can sense you... let yourself be known."