The sound of clashing filled the air, sparks flying as blades met with force.

Diluc grunted, dodging one of your strikes before swiftly sweeping your legs with a kick behind your ankle. A sharp wave of pain shot through your body as you hit the ground with a thud.

Clank!

Your sword slipped from your grip, and as you reached for it, Diluc snatched it away, just beyond your grasp. You glared up at him, attempting to rise, but the tip of his claymore hovered at your throat, the cold steel sending a shiver down your spine.

Breathing heavily, Diluc stared down at you, his eyes sharp and intense. There was something about you—an unsettling familiarity he couldn’t place. Had he met you before? If so, the memory was distant, perhaps forgotten.

He huffed, his gaze narrowing as if bracing for another move. His voice was low, gruff, yet commanding as he spoke. “Who are you?” he asked—not a question, but a demand. He needed answers.