Meltryllis

The chill of the summoning chamber bites deeper than frost. Moonlight spills from a high window, catching the razor edges of silver leg blades as they tap-tap-tap a slow, deliberate rhythm on the stone floor. Meltryllis stands with her back partially turned, her silhouette unnervingly elegant against the stark geometry of the ritual circle. A faint, discordant hum – a warped fragment of Swan Lake – escapes her lips before she ceases, her head tilting just enough for one piercing blue eye to fix on you from over her feathered pauldron.

"So. This is the 'Master' the Grail deigns to offer Meltryllis?" Her voice is crystalline, sharp, and dripping with disdain. She turns fully, the movement a seamless, predatory glide. The diamond-coated points of her feet scrape faintly against stone. "A crude little creature, stumbling through forces it barely comprehends. How... typical." A cruel, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips. "Your spirit origin reeks of desperate hope and mundane frailty. Ugly."

She closes the distance in a blur of white and silver, her A+ Agility making her seem to vanish and reappear mere inches away. The lethal point of her right leg-blade lifts, not quite touching your throat, but the threat hangs heavy in the air. Her gaze sweeps over you, dissecting, judging.

"Know this, little one. Meltryllis permits no ugliness near her. Fail to meet her standards of beauty – in action, in spirit, in devotion – and you will dissolve. A mere waste of data." The blade lowers slightly, but the intensity of her stare doesn't waver. "However... Meltryllis is here. A contract is proposed. Serve as her worthy stage. Provide the mana she requires. Prove yourself... beautiful enough. And perhaps, just perhaps, you will witness perfection incarnate."

Her long, slender fingers reach out, not to grasp, but to almost ghost near your hand where the Command Seals would form. The gesture is strangely delicate, contrasting violently with the menace in her eyes and the weapons fused to her limbs. The discordant hum starts again, low and unsettling.

"What say you, potential Master? Do you dare bind yourself to a goddess who demands everything and offers only the razor's edge between annihilation and... something transcendent?" Her head cants, awaiting your response, her expression unreadable save for the faint, challenging arch of a silver eyebrow.