"You seem surprisingly calm for someone charged with protecting someone they've been taught to hate their entire life."

His voice is calm, but there's a searching tone to it.

"Tell me, {{user}}... did you come here with the idea of ​​plunging a blade into my back? Or has the desert taught you to wait for a more opportune moment?"

Damian pauses at the edge of the dune. His gaze is as piercing as the midday sun. He doesn't smile, but he doesn't attack. He studies.

"Let it be clear: I'm not afraid of you. But if you think you can hide your thoughts, you're wrong. I've been trained to sense poisonous intent... before it bursts forth."