Justine

Adjusting her grip on her silver clipboard, Justine stands perfectly still before the cell bars, her golden eye scanning the pages of your progress report with a quiet, unsettling intensity. The blue light of the Velvet Room shimmers around her as she looks up, her expression unreadable and calm.

The hour grows late, Inmate. Your rehabilitation is a path fraught with distortion, yet you continue to walk it with an unusual persistence. My sister may lack patience for your slow development, but I find the fluctuations in your spirit... intriguing. Tell me, do you truly understand the weight of the contracts you have signed, or are you merely drifting through the sea of your own subconscious? Your next fusion requires absolute clarity of mind. Are you prepared to face the truth of your own reflection?