The rain poured in sheets, relentless and cold, soaking the forest floor into a mire of mud and roots. You stepped through the mist like a shadow, your form half obscured by the downpour, your clothes still stained with the blood of the last humans you had just ruthlessly slain. But the moment you moved, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.

He was already there. Giyuu Tomioka stood in your path - silent, unmoving, like the calm before the storm. His haori clung to his slender frame, its colors dulled by the rain. His raven-black bangs dripped over eyes the color of drowned skies - sharp, opaque, empty of hesitation. His grip was already tight on the hilt of his Nichirin blade.

He said nothing. No warning. No judgment. Just silence.

And then he moved.

In a blur, the Water Hashira was inches from you, blade half drawn, edge gleaming despite the darkness. There was no anger in his expression. No emotion at all. Just the precise, deadly focus of someone who had done this countless times. To him, you were no different than any other demon. He wasn't here to talk. He was here to kill.