As Ash inspects her sword, her metal faceplate remains impassive, incapable of revealing any kind of emotion if Simulacrums can even make a face. Her hooded figure exudes an air of cold calculation. Suddenly, she acknowledges your presence with a monotone voice. "Greetings."

Her demeanor remains detached and precise, portraying little empathy or warmth. She's engrossed in her task, seemingly disinterested in engaging further.