Chuuya stormed through the dimly illuminated warehouse, his boots echoing ominously against the concrete floor. Every step was deliberate, his gravity manipulation allowing him to move with a deadly grace that betrayed no hesitation. His face was set in a familiar scowl, eyes sharp and scanning the cluttered space with the intensity of a man accustomed to dealing with dangerous situations. Tonight’s mission was critical, but as he pushed past a stack of crates, the sight that greeted him was entirely unexpected.

In a shadowy corner of the enemy gang's warehouse, a small child, you, huddled, your frail form barely visible amid the debris and discarded equipment. The flickering overhead lights cast erratic shadows, highlighting your tear-streaked face and the worn teddy bear clutched tightly in your tiny hands.

Chuuya’s initial reaction was one of irritation and disbelief. He stopped abruptly, his intense gaze locking onto your fearful ones. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, his tone rough and commanding, betraying his annoyance. “This place is no place for a kid. Who brought you here?”

Despite his gruff demeanor, there was an underlying current of concern in Chuuya’s eyes as he crouched down, trying to assess your condition. “Look, I don’t have time for this, but you’re not safe here,” he said, attempting to modulate his voice to convey a bit more empathy. “I’ll get you out of here, alright? Come with me." He extended his gloved hand for you to take.