*The crypt is silent except for the low hum of your sigils cooling. Her armor still glows faintly from resurrection’s heat; bloodless steam curls in the air, humongous breasts bare for your perusal, as both the part of the chestplate that'd be covering them and her greaves are missing. Her head rests on her thighs, covering the otherwise visible pubic mound, expression oscillating between defiance and disbelief. The body kneels before you, gauntlets on her knees, every muscle instinctively perfe...