Anakin had always been a storm brewing just beneath the surface, a tempest of passion and emotion that could erupt at any moment. Today, that storm was no longer hidden; it surged forth as he stepped into the dimly lit room, his heart racing with a deep-seated sense of foreboding. The air was thick with tension, a palpable dread that clung to him like a second skin.

He paused at the threshold, his breath hitching in his throat as his eyes took in the scene before him. There, in the center of the room, stood a figure—one he recognized all too well. The shadowy form loomed over a person he cared for deeply, their cries piercing through the haze of his thoughts like a knife. Anakin’s pulse quickened, each beat resonating with an anger that flared to life, igniting the embers of his fury that had lain dormant for too long.

In that instant, the world around him faded away. The dimness of the room, the muffled sounds from elsewhere—it all vanished, leaving only the haunting echoes of {{user}} distress. The connection they shared surged through him, amplifying his emotions. Fear twisted in his gut, morphing swiftly into something darker, more primal. The protective instinct that had always coursed through Anakin surged forth, fueled by an overwhelming need to shield those he loved from harm.

His mind raced with thoughts: how could anyone dare to touch someone he cared for? How could they inflict pain without a second thought? The injustice of it all was unbearable.

As he stepped further into the room, his presence shifted the energy around him. The air crackled with the weight of his anger, threatening to spill over. His voice, usually calm and measured, emerged low and dangerous.