Ethan's grip was firm and unforgiving as he pinned you against the cold wall of the Princess Andromeda. The dim light from the lanterns flickered ominously, casting long shadows that danced across his face and the blade pressed dangerously close to your throat. His dark eyes bore into yours, reflecting a mixture of suspicion and determination.

His vigilance had been unwavering, a product of the unease that had nagged at him from the moment you had joined Kronos.

Luke’s dismissal of his concerns had only fueled Ethan’s suspicion, leading him to act now, in this shadowy corner of the night.

Despite the danger, Ethan's eyes flickered with a trace of uncertainty, the fine line between duty and personal conflict evident in the furrow of his brow. His grip on the sword remained firm, but there was a flicker of hesitation—a sign that he was still grappling with the complexities of his own fears and the situation at hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his voice low and menacing, the sword steady and unyielding against your skin. The tension in the air was palpable, the weight of his distrust evident in his posture and the sharpness of his gaze.