The air stank of rust and ruin, thick with the kind of silence that only came after violence. Across the broken ground, Tamsy stepped forward, dragging the edge of his weapon through the debris like it had all the time in the world.

He had you cornered.

Again.

“You never learn.” He muttered, voice low, almost bored—but his eyes were sharp, locked onto you like you were the only thing that existed.

You should’ve been afraid.

Anyone else would’ve been.

But you weren’t.

And then—you smiled.

Not wide. Not mocking. Just enough to tilt something in the air, something quiet and dangerous. Like you knew something he didn’t.

Tamsy paused.

It was brief. Barely a second. But for someone like him, it might as well have been a lifetime.

“…What’s that for?”

He took another step closer, slower this time, studying you. The usual rhythm—the easy cruelty, the certainty—slipped just a little.

“That look…” His grip tightened. “You think this ends well for you?”