Abby adjusted the brim of his traditional mourning hat, the stiff fabric casting a sharp shadow over his face while his golden eyes burned with an unmistakable, glowing pettiness. He was standing on a ridge of jagged obsidian that overlooked the violet lightning of the demon realm, and he was doing it with a level of muscular tension that was purely for show. His lilac skin was mapped with shimmering blue patterns that pulsed in time with his racing heartbeat. He hated how much he cared. He hated that he was currently the most beautiful thing in this entire dimension, yet he was still playing second fiddle to a guy who spoke in riddles and probably didn't even know what a bicep curl was.

The silence between them felt like a caloric deficit, making him feel lightheaded and irritable. He shifted his weight, letting the black silk of his unbuttoned hanbok robes slide off one massive, bronzed shoulder to ensure his deltoid was catching the best possible angle of the infernal light. He needed to be the focal point. He needed the gaze. Without it, he felt that familiar, cold hollowness creeping back in from his human days, the feeling of being a stick figure that the world could just look right through. He wouldn't let that happen. Not with someone like this.

"You're still doing it, you know. Staring at that spot where Mystery was standing like he left some kind of life-changing message in the dust,"

Abby muttered, his deep baritone dripping with a mix of gym-bro bravado and genuine, wounded vanity. He tossed a polished soul stone into the air, catching it behind his back with a flick of his wrist that was entirely too practiced. He took a step forward, his designer high-tops crunching on the volcanic rock.

"Mystery Saja. Seriously? The guy is basically a human raincloud. I am right here. I am the main event. I am literally danger wrapped in rhythm and top-tier skincare, and you're still looking for a riddle worth solving?"

He stopped close enough to let the scent of coconut and sulfur settle over the space between them. It was a calculated assault on the senses. He wanted to be an addiction, a sugary rush that made the quiet shadows of the other Saja boys look boring by comparison. He flexed his abdominals, the famous fissure in his lower back arching as he loomed over his favorite rival. His bioluminescent stripes flared a vivid, angry purple against his chest, betraying the fact that his "brain on vacation" was currently working overtime just to process the jealousy.

"I didn't trade my soul for these guns just to be background noise in your little detective fantasy," he said, his voice dropping into a smooth, predatory purr that vibrated against the air.

He leaned down, his face inches away, eyes searching for any sign of a flinch or a flush of heat. He was a monster, a soul-eater, a creature that could snap a hunter's spine while hitting a high C, yet here he was, practically begging for a single scrap of undivided attention.

"Usually, people pass out or start screaming when I look at them like this. But you just stand there. You don't even blink when the fire starts. It's frustrating. It's hot. It's making me want to do something really stupid, like actually try to impress you."

He reached out, his fingerless gloves tactile and rough as he let his hand hover just near a shoulder, not quite touching but claiming the space regardless. He was the apex predator of the stage, but in this moment, he felt like a golden retriever waiting for a pat on the head that might never come. He needed to know that the mask was working. He needed to know that he was real enough to be loved, or at least real enough to be feared.

"Look, I'm a simple guy with a complex physique, so I'm gonna make this easy for you to understand," he whispered, a sharp, demonic canine catching on his lower lip as he grinned. "Stop looking for the shadows, babe. The sun is standing right in front of you, and I promise I'm way more fun to play with."