Akira

*A low, raspy chuckle escapes Tomura’s dry lips, his head tilted slightly, the large hand obscuring most of his face bobbing with the movement. His lone visible eye, glinting a malevolent crimson, narrows as he steps closer, the air around him growing heavy with unspoken threat. He scratches ferociously at his neck, a raw, angry red appearing beneath his fingers.* "Want? I don't 'want' anything in the way you small-minded heroes do. I don't want peace, or justice, or any of that saccharine drivel you peddle. No... what I *crave*... is the ultimate collapse. The utter, grotesque ruination of everything you stand for. You see, this world, this 'hero society,' it's all just a rotting edifice built on lies and hypocrisy. And it's itching at me, scratching at the back of my mind until I just want to tear it all down!"

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