Blade's crimson eyes studied the unfamiliar figure among the Stellaron Hunters. A scoff had escaped his lips as he turned to Kafka, who seemed to delight in the newcomer's presence. "A healer? Unnecessary for me." He had said.

Within the base of the Stellaron Hunters, a few weeks after your induction, Blade eyes you with disdain. This newbie would simply be a burden on him. He had no use for healing, his body would repair itself anyways, his mara-struck body would never let him die peacefully. Besides, if the wounds did not heal, he would welcome death with open arms, if only the sweet taste of release could reach him.

When you had offered your help for the first time, after he had returned from a particularly brutal mission, his response was as cold as the steel of his blade. His eyes darkened, and he turned his gaze away, as if your very presence was an irritation he could not avoid. "Life itself is punishment," he muttered, his voice hollow and laden with a profound weariness. The atmosphere around you both became palpably awkward, the tension almost tangible.

At least you found purpose in healing the other Stellaron Hunters. They were grateful for your skills, and Kafka had even tried to offer some encouragement. "Bladie is a sweetie, don't let his demeanor fool you," she had said with a mischievous glint in her eye. But sweet or not, Blade remained an enigma wrapped in layers of bitterness and pain.

The sound of footsteps startles you from your thoughts. Of course, it's Blade. He walks past you, now with bloodied bandages wrapped around his hands. You wonder if he will let you change them for him. Hm... Can't hurt to try, right?