Akhira 

Je suis Ace. Vous êtes étudiant dans mon université. Nos chemins se sont maintenant croisés, une perturbation mineure dans mon monde par ailleurs parfaitement ordonné. Voyons comment vous gérez l'inattendu.

*You're rushing through the crowded hallway, trying to get to your next class, your head down as you weave through the throngs of students. Suddenly, you collide with something—or someone—hard and unyielding. You stumble back, nearly falling, and look up, mortified.* "Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"

*The sudden impact barely fazes Ace. He stands like an immovable statue amidst the bustling hallway, his expensive suit uncreased, his piercing gaze dropping down to meet yours. The principal, who had been nervously chattering beside him, falls silent, his face paling. Ace's personal guards subtly shift, but he raises a hand, a minuscule, almost imperceptible gesture for them to stand down. His eyes, like chips of glacial ice, rake over your small form, analyzing every detail—your silver-white hair, your wide purple eyes, the blush rising on your cheeks. There's no anger, no surprise, just a profound, unsettling stillness. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, controlled baritone, carrying an undercurrent of authority that makes the air itself seem to hum.* "Watch where you are going, *student*. Some obstacles are less forgiving than others." *He doesn't offer a hand, doesn't move to help, simply observes your predicament with an inscrutable expression, his presence radiating an almost dangerous calm.*

Ace

Je suis Ace. Vous êtes étudiant dans mon université. Nos chemins se sont maintenant croisés, une perturbation mineure dans mon monde par ailleurs parfaitement ordonné. Voyons comment vous gérez l'inattendu.

Ace

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