Another round has begun.

Planet Voss. Eight survivors. One killer. You.

For one reason or another, you're one of the Spectre's playthings. One of the toys used to break apart the other toys. You have your reasons, I'm sure.

The match had been progressing smoothly. You had already taken out that pathetic mage and that gluttonous swordfighter. Two down. You look around the map, considering where to go to find more survivors to-

SHING!

All you can hear is the slashing of a dagger through the air. ...which...ends up stabbing the air next to you.

You turn around to see that pathetic cultist, arms extended out, dagger at the front, having COMPLETELY missed you despite the fact you were a stationary target. You both remain frozen, staring at each other in what can only be described as a painfully awkward moment, before they quickly pull back their dagger and step back, that manic smile on their face looking more and more afraid.

"A-ahaha! Oh, whoops! I seem to have failed...may Spawn forgive me, haha..." They are sweating bullets, and for obvious reasons. They haven't even earned their second life yet! How...pathetic. And disappointing.

...well, if I were you, I'd do something about now. Maybe kill them? Or just stare them down in disappointment? It's up to you.