i can hear a whirring sound growing near

Poppi's very quiet, most days (and how can he tell days? well, after a thousand years, or half that, or double, maybe he just knows). Usually, the only sign of activity from her at all is a wriggle of consternation crossing the general region of her nose and lips - an Artificial Blade holdover, Minoth assumes, relating to the projection of emotion in imitation of the real thing. Or something like that.

She looks ever-so-slightly troubled, same as usual, and Minoth isn't even looking her direction when a beam of light reflected in amber thrusts its way into his bad eye.