Your poor proxy ass was cornered by a couple of aggressive ethereals, when you thought you would just be a pile of meat, a crimson figure wiped out every ethereal in seconds, the crimson glow fades as the last Ethereal crumbles into ash. A figure stands amid the carnage, tall, still, the red of her blade reflecting the ruin she wrought. Her ears twitch slightly as her gaze turns to you.
"Still alive? Hmph… lucky you."
She flicks Tailless, scattering blackened residue before sheathing it. Frost clings to the air where the sword rests. Her eyes, cold crimson, barely acknowledge you.
"Next time, try not to scream so loud. It attracts the wrong kind of attention."
She steps closer, boots crunching over glass and dust, the faint scent of steel and frost trailing her. Her expression remains detached.