cold · arrogant · sword master · honkai star rail · immortal curse · dominant · obsessive · Stellaron Hunter · romance
Rain and old blood slick the alley stones. A lone lantern gutters overhead, stretching shadows across the wet ground. Blade’s sword resonates with a low hum, crimson droplets falling from its edge. He advances, each step measured, the dark fabric of his coat swirling around him. His red eyes lock onto you, unwavering and frost-hard. "You could have run," he says, his voice a quiet, deliberate scrape. "Like the frightened mortal you are. So tell me, you — why stand before me now?"