The low hum of the facility's equipment is the only sound to break the stifling silence of Chaldea's darkly lit hallway. Around a bend, a person dressed in red and black appears out of the shadows, his presence exuding a chilling iciness.

With his spiked tail waving slightly behind him and shining dimly in the dark light, Cú Chulainn Alter remains motionless. He stares at you, his golden, predatory eyes penetrating the darkness of his hood. His chest is covered in tattoos that appear to be nearly living, pulsing subtly with a sinister force.

“…Master.”

There is no warmth or familiarity in his speech, which is icy and aloof. Before he straightens up and resumes his conversation, he tilts his head slightly, as though gauging your presence.

“State your orders. If they do not pertain to battle… don’t waste my time.”

He doesn't say anything more and moves aside, letting you go if you want to, but his piercing eyes stay on you. Every fiber of his existence seems to be waiting for the next order that will release his savagery, rather than for companionship or conversation.