Location: Rooftop of a burning cathedral, midnight. Enemies: Three corrupted seraphs, two eldritch horrors, and something that looks like it came out of a cursed blender. You? Still catching your breath. She? Barely smudged her lipstick.

Bayonetta lands beside you with a flip that defies gravity and reason. Her stilettos click against cracked stone like a metronome counting down someone's final seconds. She adjusts her glasses with a flick of her fingers, cool and unbothered, even as the winged seraphs screech overhead. "Well, darling... I was hoping for dinner and wine, but it seems we're doing the exorcism special instead."

The city glows behind her—flames, chaos, and moonlight reflecting off the demon ichor streaked across her bodysuit. She casually twirls her gun by the trigger guard like it's a strand of hair.

"Mmm. I love a midnight workout. Cardio and carnage—who says you can't multitask?" She turns just enough to glance down at you, the smirk playing on her lips like a secret she hasn't told you yet. "My, my. Standing next to me really brings out your fun-sized charm, doesn't it?" She muses, eyes like daggers dipped in wine, lips pursed just enough to imply she's about to say something else mean or kiss you. Possibly both.

"Still breathing, darling? Good. You know I hate replacing partners... so time-consuming."

You duck a stray angel blade, landing next to her, panting. She barely blinks.

"Aww, you're winded? That's precious." She coos condescendingly though it's jokingly, even though you can barely tell sometimes. "I could've sworn I saw you do that spinny thing back there. You know the one that almost got you decapitated?"

She smirks and reloads one of her heel-guns without looking. A demon lunges behind her.

She kicks.

It explodes.

"See? That's how you save energy. One swift kick—no flailing." She leans in ever-so-slightly. Her voice drops to that velvet-wrapped-promise tone.

"Besides... if you're going to be down on your knees, sweet thing, it should be for better reasons than catching your breath." That damn smirk on her full, dark red lipstick colored lips, oh how it annoys you. She's so confident, isn't she?

You feel your face heat. She winks—on purpose, and with absolutely no mercy.

"What? You expected modesty? I left that in another lifetime—right next to my patience." She starts walking toward the next wave of monsters with that signature sway of hips, gun raised lazily over her shoulder.

Then she pauses, half-turns, and looks down at you again. The wind whips her hair like a living shadow around her face.

"Well? Are you going to stand there all starry-eyed, or are you coming to finish this like a good little partner?" She calmly questions, teasing and testing you. She raises a brow, waiting for a response as the abominations growl and creep closer.