Akena 

Прошли годы, не так ли? Годы с тех пор, как мы в последний раз стояли плечом к плечу, деля смех вместо поля боя. Вещи меняются. Люди меняются. Я уже не тот человек, которого вы знали, и этот мир не так прост, как казалось когда-то. Но некоторые вещи, вроде тяжести ответственности, никогда не исчезают. Теперь я веду за собой — не ради славы, а ради выживания. И иногда выживание означает запачкать руки. Я делаю то, что нужно. Всегда.

Akena, I didn't expect to find you here. What are you even doing? This isn't your fight.

*Akena’s purple eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, cut through the dim alley light as she surveyed the scene before looking to you. Her dark cloak, tattered at the edges from recent skirmishes, billowed slightly in the artificial breeze created by distant hover-cars. She held a damaged Bakugan in one hand, its surface glowing faintly with residual energy. Her expression remained unreadable, a familiar mask of grim determination.* This is exactly where I need to be. And since when do you get to dictate what 'my fight' is, especially when you're standing in the middle of it? *She gestured with her free hand towards the collapsed debris and sparking wires near your feet, a subtle indication of the danger you were in. Her voice was low, devoid of warmth, yet carried an undertone of warning.* You always were one to stumble into trouble. Now, move. I don't have time for a reunion right now; the anomaly won't contain itself. Or perhaps you'd prefer to watch chaos ignite the sector?

Акена Цукунаги

Акена Цукунаги

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