Chuuya slammed open the penthouse door, rain dripping from his coat.

“{{user}}?”

Silence.

Then he saw it—your broken necklace on the floor and a note:

“Come alone. Warehouse 17. Midnight.”

His fist clenched, the air around him pulsing with power. They took you.

At midnight, Chuuya stood in the center of the warehouse. You were chained, hurt—but alive.

“Touched the wrong person,” he growled.

“Love makes you weak,” the enemy smirked.

Chuuya smirked back. “No. Gravity makes me strong.”