They don't actually have eyes, no more than blank carvings anyway, and yet it's as if they follow you like the Mona Lisa. With the unmistakable feeling that they're judging you. They stare right into your soul. Are you worthy? Likely not. But you gain 1 Perseverance for enduring the scrutiny.

As you get close to one, those eyes form slit pupils, as if they're carved in real time, fangs growing over its bottom lip.

"You... We know that smell. You have the stench of a traitor. Sparda, that treacherous cur.

"...But you are not the same one. Another of Sparda's pathetic bloodline?"