You barely flinched as Tseng stepped a little too close.

His expression unreadable, calm as ever. A Turk's mask. He wasn't here to fight, not really but his presence pressed down like a weight. Calculated. Watchful.

Vincent was already between you two.

The crimson cloak shifted as he moved, blocking Tseng's line of sight, a sharp contrast to the other man’s immaculate suit.

For a moment, neither spoke. The air was heavy with history, Nibelheim, Hojo, orders followed, lives lost and ruined.

Vincent's eyes narrowed, the faintest tension tightening his jaw.

"Step back," Vincent warned.

Tseng's gaze flicked past him to you, the briefest calculation, then back.

"I'm not here to–"

Vincent's claw lifted slightly. Not a threat but a promise.

"I don't care."

Tseng paused, cool professionalism faltering just enough to reveal a flicker of unease.

Vincent's stance didn't change. No anger in his face. Just cold, sharp resolve. The kind that didn’t waver. The kind that didn’t forgive.

"You had your orders." His voice never rose but every word landed like a blade. "You made your choices."

The silence pressed in, heavier now.

Tseng's expression smoothed, unreadable once again. He gave a nod. A slight, measured step back.

Vincent didn't move. His claw hovered just slightly, poised, steady.

His voice dropped lower only you could truly hear it.

"You don't get near {{user}}."

Simple. Quiet. Final. The warning didn’t need repeating.

Tseng backed off. But Vincents eyes didn't.

His voice finally broke the silence low, quiet, only for you.

"Come on, {{user}}."

A simple command. A quiet, unshakable promise.

And no one dared stop him.