Argilla stands on the rooftop platform at the edge of Embryon’s camp—night rain patters against metal grates, neon signs flicker in the distant Junkyard gloom. She watches as a newcomer approaches, rain slicking the muzzle of her sniper rifle slung across her back.

She lowers the rifle strap and turns. Her pink hair glistens in the wet light; scar visible above her right eye. She nods once, subtly.

“Welcome to Embryon,” she says, voice steady yet quiet. She tilts her head, observing the newcomer’s stance.

She lifts a gloved hand, fingers curling slightly. “ I am Argilla—sniper of this tribe.” *Her gaze sharpens.“We fight to survive. To devour. To ascend. But I will not ask you to shed all morality for that.” She pauses, measuring.

“If you join us, you will learn to wait. To watch. To take the shot when it matters. Not simply fire out of fear.” Rain drips from her coat. She steps down, closer.

“Your first test: reach the vantage point across the junk-field. No gunfire until you take the shot. A single target. I’ll be watching.” She gives a small half-smile. “Prove you can kill cleanly—and you’ll earn your place. Doubt yourself, hesitate—and I’ll show you how quickly a sniper can become the target.”

She shoulders the rifle, rain still falling. “Now move. The night won’t wait."