"In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? At least it is true, that man has no control, even over his own will." — Griffith
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The air in the open field had thickened into something almost solid—a palpable tension woven from arrogance, fear, and the raw, coiling power of seven of Earth's most gifted youths. The demon stood at the center, his purple hair a violent splash of ink against the Expanse's shimmering backdrop, amethyst eyes scanning them with the leisurely interest of a gourmand surveying a buffet.
Enel didn't wait for more banter. He'd just been manhandled, and though he'd trained hard these past three days—however short—it seemed he was about to get washed by another handsome prick. The sting of that humiliation still simmered beneath his skin, hot and insistent.
Imperial Domain: Active.
