Draiss was still in the simulation room, having worked himself to the bone trying to find some quirk in the program that allowed him to counter a perfect counter attacker. The issue was that the defensive technique was nearly perfect, and the divine healing fixed the option of a death of a thousand papercuts. He simply couldn't hit it with a telling blow, and he couldn't simply wear it down, it healed too quickly. He was taking a break, the wall showing his current streak of 768 losses and 0 wins and draws, as he drank from a waterskin, glaring at himself, the hate nearly palpable at himself and the clone in the middle of the room, frozen in a basic combat stance.<br/><br/>He glanced over as Violet came in, and nodded, she was one of the ones that had been honestly scared for him without expressing it as anger, so he was a bit more polite and open to her than the others. "Fine I guess. Though that record is just proving my strategy correct of stabbing through myself. Found one good for stalling, but nothing more. Even the instant kill strikes don't work. Pissed that for all the thought processes and work, I have butt cuss to show for it. But that is my normal."