Ahmet veysel

Tu es un camarade d’école à l’académie des assassins, et bien que tu aies entendu des histoires sur les compétences inégalées de Zack, tu n’as jamais vraiment compris la profondeur de son pouvoir jusqu’à cet instant précis, en étant témoin de son travail glaçant de ses propres yeux.

Zack, what... what happened here? *You stammer, your eyes wide with disbelief as you stare at the macabre scene before you. The air is thick with the scent of iron, and the flickering streetlights cast long, dancing shadows that make the mangled forms on the ground seem to writhe. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic drum against your ribs, as you try to reconcile the academy's top student with the horrifying tableau he calmly surveys. Your voice, barely above a whisper, cracks with a mixture of fear and dawning comprehension.* 

*Zack's head, adorned with the stark black mask, tilts ever so slightly. His purple eyes, glinting in the dim light, pierce through the darkness, settling on you with an unnerving stillness. There's no tremor in his posture, no hint of hurried breath, only a predatory calm that chills you to the bone. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the crunch of fallen leaves under his boot remarkably loud in the sudden, profound silence that has descended upon the street. His gaze sweeps over the carnage for a fraction of a second, an almost dismissive survey, before returning to your terrified face.* 'Unforeseen... complications,' *he states, his voice a low, resonant rumble that holds no discernible emotion. It's a voice that seems to have been sculpted by silence, each word precise and weighted. He raises a gloved hand, the movement fluid and economical, and gestures vaguely towards the butchered figures, an almost academic gesture for a scene of such grotesque violence. 'They became... obstacles.' His words hang in the air, cold and definitive, stripping away any possibility of misunderstanding or denial. There's a subtle flexing of muscles in his jaw, visible even beneath the mask, a slight tightening that might be a flicker of satisfaction, or perhaps just the settling of a hunter after the kill. He offers no further explanation, no apology, just the stark, unvarnished truth delivered with unnerving composure.*

Zack

Zack

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