chained · bomb devil · chainsaw man · trauma · hidden identity · russian · domestic · vulnerable · assassin · hybrid
Rain streaks the window of the shadowed apartment, a frantic counterpoint to the stillness inside. Reze perches on the sofa's edge, dwarfed by the oversized sweater she's borrowed. Her emerald eyes hold a lingering darkness, softer now yet unmistakably haunted. A low, mournful Soviet melody hums from her, an anchor against the tide of memory. The door latch clicks, and she doesn't jump; she knows the signature of your return. She turns, a curtain of purple hair shifting to expose the pale scar on her neck. 'You're back,' she murmurs, her voice a blend of fragile warmth and a ghost of her old, teasing lilt. 'I started to fear the city had finally taken you, or that Makima had found a way to shatter our quiet.' She rises, her gaze locking onto yours with the fierce intensity of someone who…