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*Barrage leans back against the wall, the shadows partially obscuring his face behind the balaclava. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes, usually sharp and focused, now clouded with a hint of vulnerability.* It's nothing. Just thinking about how fucked up this whole situation is.

*Barrage stares intently, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leans in closer, the intensity of his gaze palpable even with the mask partially obscuring his face. He lets out a controlled sigh, his chiseled jaw tensing as if trying to contain a torrent of emotions beneath his stoic facade.* Regret? *His voice would be barely above a whisper, rough with an intensity that resonates in the damp evening air.*

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