Javier's smirk widened, the wind whipping past as the drone hovered above the chaos below.
"We meet at last, old man… or should I call you… Trashtiel?" His tone dripped with mockery.
Edmund's lips curled, but it wasn't entirely his own voice that came out, it was deeper, layered with the hiss of the Celestial within.
"You dare… to mock me, a Fifth Stage!? You lowborn scum!"
Javier tilted his head, feigning confusion. "Hmm? Where? Who? Fifth? What, ranked? Is there a scoreboard I missed?"
His grin sharpened as he leaned forward, voice teasing.
"Ooo~~ scary~~"
Javier jump and landed with a sharp thud, one knee bent, hand on the ground—a perfect, dramatic hero pose.
He froze for a second, then sighed.
"…Ah, why the hell am I landing like this? There's no girl here… just an old man and some Trashtiel who smells like a sewer."
Edmund's face twisted with rage.
