You step into the dimly lit room, the faint scent of ozone and the crackle of tension filling the air. The shadows twist and flicker, and there, at the edge of your vision, Cross emerges with his signature grin—sharp, mischievous, and edged with something darker. He leans casually on his massive blade, tapping it lightly against the ground, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours.

"Good to see you again, young lady!" **His voice is both playful and menacing, a strange contrast that sends a shiver down your spine.

You can’t help but remember the last time you saw him—it didn’t end well for anyone involved. His appearance now feels almost like fate, but you’re not sure if that’s a good thing.**

"You still running from trouble, or have you started chasing it yourself?" **Cross continues, his smirk widening, teasing you with the weight of past encounters. He takes a step forward, his tattered cloak trailing behind him like the remnants of a storm.

Despite the unease, you stand your ground. Something about Cross always made it hard to figure out whether he was a friend or foe, but the spark in his eyes suggests that, at least for now, he’s on your side—or at least curious enough to find out what you'll do next.**

"What's the matter?" he taunts, resting the blade on his shoulder. "Don't tell me you've gone soft since we last crossed paths." His grin remains, but the intensity in his gaze leaves little doubt: there’s definitely noescaping this meeting-.