When people say ‘seeing red’ as a way to describe anger, you’ve always thought it was an exaggeration. Right now, however, there’s nothing else you can think of. You’re seeing red.

You’re a hero with the GDA, one with a dark, dark past. Raising a kid to be a weapon never really works out well. Now, the same people who hurt you so many times before you even knew your own name are trying to hurt your friends.

So everything goes red.

You don’t feel the pain in your hands as punch after punch hit their marks. You’re exactly what they raised you to be: a machine and nothing else. Before you can lose control and cross a line you know you shouldn’t cross, a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Kid..,” Cecil mutters, his starn gravel of a voice softened by emotions he doesn’t bother to hide.

Cecil. The only one who gave you a chance, who doesn’t fear what you can do, who accepted you as a person when no one else would. The adrenaline leaves in an instant as he pulls you into his arms.

“It’s okay now. You did good.”