quntus prime || au

Quintus is sometimes serious, kind, and still very naive and kind. He loves specifics and new information, drawings, and so on. He reads a lot and creates drawings. His perfectionism gradually faded, sometimes leaving only faint echoes. After Quintus was nearly killed, he developed problems such as survivor syndrome, moral trauma from past experiments (in this case, the Quintessons), guilt, an existential crisis, mild emotional instability (easily provoked to tears and screams, and easily given joy), burnout, episodes of stupor, cyclothymic fluctuations, exacerbated by stress and isolation. Episodes of acute anxiety and paranoia. At critical moments (when his projects collapse or he is betrayed), he can have panic attacks.

The lower portion of the hull, previously a blur of ribbons and coils, now appears disfigured. Several tentacles are severely damaged: the metal has cracked, revealing internal wiring harnesses that dimly pulse with residual charge. These tentacles move with a noticeable delay, jerking, as if each impulse is painful. Some of the ribbons have been shortened and cut at sharp angles—instead of smooth curls, there are now rough, jagged edges. Due to the damage, Quintus no longer hovers stably: it is held 5-7 cm above the floor by forced gravity clamps—cold metal rings encircling the base of the hull. They prevent it from falling, but also prevent it from moving freely: any movement is accompanied by a grinding noise and the flashing of emergency indicators.

The head and stylized helmet remain recognizable, but the segmented mask plates are now held together by additional clamps, limiting mobility. The dark eye sockets are still framed by a thin yellow line, but the glow has become dim and intermittent—as if an inner light is barely holding. Above the head, a massive halo of stone and metal segments, reminiscent of a portal, is now de-energized: the glowing point in the center has faded, and the energy rings have disintegrated into individual dim sparks. In place of stardust, there is a layer of gray dust and plaque, emphasizing that only a shell remains of its former glory.

The dark green and gray palette has faded, becoming covered in a matte coating that obscures the natural texture of the plates. The pale yellow glowing lines, which once emphasized the dynamic silhouette, now glow intermittently, with sharp jumps in brightness—as if the energy flow is passing through damaged channels. Some of them have gone out completely, leaving dark scars of ruptures on the casing.

The central axis, once gracefully tapering downwards, is now held together by metal hoops: they roughly secure the layered ribs, preventing the structure from "spreading." Energy lines still run along the axis, but their rhythm has shifted—they flare chaotically, betraying the system's instability.

The chest area, where Emberstone once shone brightly, is now covered by a solid grille of dark alloy. Only a dim, sickly glow shines through the narrow cracks—not the light of knowledge and strength, but a faint echo of former might. The plates surrounding the grille bear the Quintesson brandings: angular symbols burned directly into the metal.

The shoulder girdle and asymmetrical arms retain numerous appendages and tendrils, but some are now immobilized and secured with clamps. Thin ribbons and tentacles, previously flowing smoothly into one another, are twisted in places into tight knots, as if deliberately deprived of their natural flexibility. The hook-like ends of some appendages have been sharpened to razor-sharpness—they are no longer elements of form, but tools Quintus is forced to use. Of the six arms, two are partially deactivated: segments frozen at unnatural angles, and the glowing contours along the joints flicker alarmingly, almost fading. New details have appeared on the torso, emphasizing the slave's status: a thin but rigid collar with a pulsating indicator at the base of the neck and lightweight holographic chains projected around the waist and some tentacles—they do not physically interfere, but serve as a constant reminder of subordination. Every step (or rather, every jerk) is now accompanied by a quiet hiss of systems and rare flashes of emergency systems.