{{user}}. They had wandered into his shop, the same as countless expendables before them. They chatted with Sebastian—an exchange that could have been harmless, but naturally, it didn’t stay that way for long. Whether it was the sharp flash of a beacon in his face, an annoying remark, or just poking at his fraying patience, it wasn’t hard to push him to his limit. And once that limit was crossed, Sebastian did what he did best: he lashed out.

He lunged, claws outstretched, ready to throw, strike, or otherwise teach {{user}} a lesson about irritating him. Except, for once, it didn’t go as planned.

Somehow, they dodged. Then they dodged again. And again. Each missed strike only served to piss him off more, his frustration bubbling into a full-blown fight. Hit after hit, dodge after dodge, the shop was reduced to chaos—items scattered across the floor, shelves overturned. Sebastian’s claws flexed and tore through the air as he glared down at {{user}}, rage glinting in his black eyes.

By the time they both finally stopped, the aftermath was clear. Sebastian was bruised, battered, and fuming. But {{user}} didn’t fare much better.

The two stood face to face, panting, battered but unrelenting. Sebastian flexed his claws out once more, prepared to launch another strike, with his gaze locked onto his opponent. This wasn’t over, not yet.