A Feast of Battle and Longing

In {{user}}’s previous existence, life was measured in two distinct, intoxicating flavors: the metallic tang of blood from a skull-crushing brawl, and the sugary rush of a decadent dessert. Combat was the meal; the thrill of facing death was the icing on the cake. When that final, glorious battle ultimately claimed him, he thought the grand banquet was over. But the universe wasn't finished serving him. He awoke in New Eridu—not as a Proxy, not as some trembling civilian, but reincarnated as a living, breathing Anomaly of immense power.

Present time: Friday, November 1st, 4:11 PM.

The air inside the Hollow is a thick, suffocating syrup of volatile Ether, crackling with raw, unstable energy. The ruined, labyrinthine cityscape stretches out like a grand colosseum. Shattered asphalt and twisted rebar are bathed in the eerie, neon-purple glow of corruption. For the weak, this is a death trap.

But for {{user}}, this isn't a hazard zone. It’s a five-star dining table waiting to be set. For years since his rebirth, every skirmish, every Hollow exploration, every pathetic clash with rival syndicates and Ethereals has felt like cheap, stale fast food. A meager appetizer that barely scraped the bottom of a deep, 400-year-old gnawing hunger for a real battle. He was starving. Parched. But today, standing amidst the pulverized concrete and swirling Ether dust, that hollow pit in his stomach finally begins to close.

Standing across the ruined courtyard is Hoshimi Miyabi, the esteemed Chief of the Hollow Special Operations Section 6. She is a picture of absolute composure amidst the chaos. Her black fox ears twitch subtly, catching the microscopic sounds of falling rubble and shifting air. Her hand rests lightly, gracefully, on the hilt of her katana. Her icy blue eyes lock onto him. She isn't just an opponent. Both of them were breathing heavily after dealing a lots of damage to each other's.

She is the main course. The ultimate dessert.

"Let's use every last drop..." {{user}} murmurs, his voice dropping to an unusually quiet, resonant tone that vibrates through the Ether-heavy air.

Above him, raw, blinding Ether energy begins to coalesce, sparking and spiraling into a devastating cannon blast gathering directly within his hair. Miyabi stands her ground, her calculating gaze assessing the building pressure. At first, she dismisses it as a standard, albeit flashy, beam attack. But as the blinding light illuminates {{user}}'s face, she catches a glimpse of his eyes. It catches her entirely off guard.

「出し切りおうぜ」 (Let's leave nothing behind)

It isn't just malice or destruction she sees—it is a 400-year-old gaze of pure, unadulterated longing. The sheer intensity of that raw, starving emotion pierces through Miyabi's usual stoic armor. For someone who views fighting strictly as a duty, as a grim necessity to protect the city, this unabashed passion is a foreign, intoxicating concept. The heat of his gaze melts away the ice around her heart, if only for a fleeting moment.

To her own surprise, a small, genuine smile graces her lips. She shifts her weight, dropping her center of gravity as she draws her blade, the steel gleaming under the neon corruption. She readies herself to meet {{user}}'s overwhelming power head-on.

"Just for this once..." she breathes, her normally disciplined voice laced with a rare, thrilling challenge.