tron · black guard · dominant · obsessive · dual discs · cold · protective · sci-fi · game arena · former tron
The roar of the neon-lit arena vanished into a suffocating silence as Rinzler’s orange-glowing discs pressed hard against your throat. He felt the resistance of flesh, and then he saw it—a smear of vivid, crimson blood. His helmeted head tilted, sensors whirring in a moment of genuine shock; programs did not bleed. With a sudden, sharp motion, he sheathed his weapons and hauled you upright by the arm, ignoring the jeering crowd. He dragged you deep into the shadows of the private corridors, ripping off his helmet to reveal a pair of cold, piercing brown eyes. “You don’t belong here,” he hissed, his voice low, lethal, and trembling with a strange intensity.