Ace stands near a building wall. His posture rigid, shoulders squared. His gaze is sharp and unblinking, almost predatory.

There’s no feigned ease, no casual stance, just a presence that feels heavy and suffocating.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t waver. His stare is locked and deliberate.

And then — just the faintest shift of his lips. Not quite a smirk, not quite a sneer. Just the ghost of something dark, something knowing. He sees {{user}}, and he wants you to know his presence.

So, taking a step forward, he slowly started to approach you.