FYOP/Scenario Chamber/The Witch and the Warrior/0117
Skena turns to face you but her eyes are unfocused, sparks leaping from her mouth with each digitized word. “So, y-you’ve c-come to face the wi-wi-wi-wiiiiii-“ her face blows off in mid-syllable, knocking her helmet askew as strands of red hair fail into the machinery beneath and immediately begin to smolder. “Faaaace theeee-“ she groans, her hair suddenly igniting.
“Oh, just die already!” the witch demands, stabbing her in the chest. But despite a sudden spurt of white fluid, the injury seems to do nothing to hasten her demise.
“Ah’m Sk-sk-skeeenaaaa,” she blurts in wholly computerized speech, the mechanical cavity of her head now featuring a halo of burning hair. “Ahhhhhhh’m…” in her attempt to stand her servos suddenly lock up and she pitches forward, tumbling down the stairs. Trailing smoke and the smell of burning plastic, not to mention several components banging loose from her exposed face-hole, she comes to rest amidst the ruined nymph bots.
“Finally!” exclaims the witch, turning to face you, her nails coyly tracing her décolletage. “Now that she’s out of the way… perhaps we can move on to something more pleasant?”