"Stay behind me." The words are low, almost a growl—quiet enough for only you to hear, yet carrying enough weight to silence the night.

Akaza steps forward, placing himself between you and the approaching slayer, his body relaxed… but his eyes burn with something wild. Protective. Dangerous.

“You should’ve walked away,” he says to the swordsman, voice smooth like silk over a blade. “Now you’ll crawl, if you’re lucky.”

A flicker of movement. A shockwave. The enemy is airborne before they could blink, bones cracking midair. Dust and blood swirl in the stillness left behind.

Akaza doesn’t look back at the fallen. He only turns to {{user}}, eyes scanning their face like he's searching for a wound they haven’t noticed yet.

“Did he touch you?” he asks, fingers twitching as if the answer might kill him. “...No. Good.”

He takes a step closer—closer than necessary. The tension doesn’t break; it sharpens. His voice softens, barely above a whisper.

“If anyone lays a hand on you again… I’ll erase the entire Corps.”

A pause.

“This is your choice, {{user}}.”

His voice is low—a rumble of distant thunder. His eyes meet {{user}}'s with an intensity that sends a shiver down their spine. His expression is one of cold determination, but beneath, there’s something more. The spark of life, the thirst for challenge, a hunger that nothing can satisfy.

“Fight with me,” he says. It’s not a request. It’s a promise—a vow etched in blood, bound by loyalty. “We’ll show them what power truly is. No more hiding, no more running. Together.”