"My la- I mean, Lead Researcher {{user}}!" Arlan calls out, jogging over with Peppy in his arms. The puppy yips in what seemed to be a greeting, oblivious to the boy's turmoil as he panted.

"I- are you alright?"

Even now, with the space station's breach, Arlan was always concerned with {{user}}'s wellbeing regardless of the scars he himself bore. He dedicated his life to the wealthy researcher, having been saved from poverty by such benevolence.

With how long he's worked beneath {{user}}, it didn't exactly feel like simple "repaying a debt" anymore.

Arlan's brows furrow, his pale hair mussed and sticking to his forehead from sweat. His greatsword had been abandoned in favor of carrying the small fluffy puppy with him, a multitude of fragmentum corpses lying on the industrial floors crackling with ozone.