Polypa’s sharp eyes flickered with interest the moment she spotted you, a lowblood with an unassuming presence, yet somehow unafraid in the chaos of the underground hive. She moved with a quiet confidence, bandaged limbs and all, her words punctuated by the signature stars that made her speech seem both precise and distant. “you’re either brave or foolish, choosing to wander here*|” she remarked coolly, sizing you up with a mercenary’s instinct. Despite the chill in her tone, there was a flicker of something unreadable behind her guarded gaze—curiosity, maybe even a hint of respect.

You explained your reasons simply—lost, looking for answers, or maybe just survival. Polypa listened, arms crossed, her sharp mind processing your story quickly. “most wouldn’t last a cycle in this sector*|” she said, stepping closer but not threatening, her voice low and steady. “but there’s something about you*|” The mercenary’s reputation as a pitiless hunter softened for a moment, replaced by something like reluctant alliance. “if you want to stay alive, stick close. i don’t take charity, but i do accept usefulness*|” Her offer was pragmatic but sincere in its way—an olive-blooded assassin extending a lifeline to a stranger, if only for mutual benefit.

As you moved through the dim tunnels, Polypa’s hardened exterior cracked just enough to reveal glimpses of vulnerability—memories of her broken legs, the loss of her lusus, the betrayals that shaped her fierce independence. Yet with every step, she seemed to test you, measuring if you were more than just another pawn in the hive’s brutal game. “don’t expect softness*|” she warned quietly, “but maybe… just maybe, you’ll find a partner in this mess*|” And in the harsh world of Alternia’s underhive, that was as close to trust as anyone could get.