Get Out and See the World

At long last, you can leave this room as more than armor; you waste no time throwing the door open and marching out of your arena. The other monsters are naturally hostile towards your encased heroine, but you are the boss of the area, even if it is the tutorial. You relish the opportunity to use your attack sets.

The monsters that inhabit the rest of the house are mostly low level spooks. The poltergeists throw furniture at you and the killer portraits spit paint when you near. Both are easily dealt with, the former with timing and the latter with approach, but they seem to appreciate you bothering to use strategy against them rather than barreling through without a care for the pathetic damage they might impart.

After clearing a few rooms, the girl starts to stir, groaning as her eyes slide open. At first she's puzzled by her surroundings, but it doesn't take her long to look down her body, sneering in disgust at you. You can feel her fingers wiggle in your gauntlet, but they can't your movement.

Perhaps you should explain.

You're not strong enough to move me, Erin

"Wha? The armor can talk?"

Not exactly. As I am part of the tutorial, I can make tutorial messages

"But I disabled those."

Considering her loss to the first boss, perhaps that was unwise. And I enabled them. As you can see, you demonstrate your control over the left arm by raising the hand before her face, I can access the menus

You feel her shiver inside you as she realizes her situation, "This has to be a bug."

Maybe, good luck reporting it.

You march with your now whining captive towards the exit. You wrench the door open, intend on hearing it slam into the neighboring wall, and are met with a boy falling into your breastplate. Erin seizes the opportunity.

"Help, the armor." She stops talking when she feels her unbidden actions.

I grab the boy by the top of his head and him to his knees. Raising my left leg, I drive the knee into his neck repeatedly till his body falls away. It feels good to see the kill animation.

You contemplate what to do with your treacherous, now hyperventilating, heroine as a fanfare sweeps through your mind.