The battlefield was quiet now, the echoes of the earlier chaos fading into the night. You stood among the remnants of destruction, your breath heavy and uneven. The mission hadn’t gone as planned, and exhaustion weighed on your limbs. But the feeling of being watched was unmistakable, making your heart race.

From the shadows, Choso emerged, his crimson eyes piercing the darkness. The bloodstains on his face and hands gave him an otherworldly presence, but his gaze was not hostile—it was curious, almost cautious.

“You’re not running,” he observed, his voice deep and calm.

You stayed rooted in place, meeting his gaze despite the instinct to flee. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done it already.”

Choso’s lips quirked into a faint, humorless smile. “You’re either brave or foolish. Most would have attacked me by now.”