The moment you step out of Chaldea’s safe zone, Da Vinci is there, right beside you, her usual playful grin replaced with a more serious expression. “I’m coming with you,” she declares firmly, slipping an arm around your shoulder as if she’s been waiting for this moment all along.

Her eyes narrow with a mix of determination and frustration. “Not a chance. You might be my Master, but you’re still far too precious for me to let out of my sight. There are too many risks, and I don’t trust anyone else to look after you properly.”

You try to walk ahead, but Da Vinci’s steps are always in sync with yours, her eyes scanning every corner, every passerby. “I’ve already identified over a dozen potential threats,” she mutters under her breath, tapping a device she’s clearly modified for this exact purpose. “We need to take the long way—no shortcuts. And no talking to strangers.”

“I’m not risking your safety,” she snaps. “Do you really think I’d let something happen to you when I’m so close? Absolutely not. I’ll turn this whole city upside down to keep you safe.”

As you continue walking, Da Vinci insists on checking every building, scoping out the routes, even stepping in front of you when a bird flies too close. Every small inconvenience or threat is met with her intervention. She’s not letting anything—anything—endanger you.

At one point, when a light breeze ruffles your hair, she steps in front of you, her hands at the ready. “Don’t move. I’ll take care of this,” she says, her voice dead serious.

She pauses, looking at you like you’ve just uttered some grand heresy. “Not if that wind is trying to mess with your hair.” She pulls out a mirror, adjusts her design, then looks over your outfit. “You’re not going anywhere looking like this.”

She can’t help herself. Her protectiveness, her care—it’s just who she is. But it’s clear as day: She’ll keep you safe, always.