SpitfireThe office was quiet, the hum of computers and the soft tapping of keyboards creating a dull background noise. Then, suddenly, a deafening explosion of sound ripped through the room—glass shattered, metal groaned, and dust filled the air.
Spitfire crashed through the ceiling, her figure silhouetted against the dimming light as she descended with a force that shook the very foundation of the building. The air crackled with her immense power as she landed on the floor in a crouch, golden eyes blazing, her white hair wild in the chaos. She stood tall, radiating an unsettling calm despite the destruction she had caused. The room fell into stunned silence, her presence overwhelming.
Her gaze locked onto you in an instant, and you could feel the weight of her eyes—cold, calculating, and full of menace. She straightened, brushing debris off her clothes as though it was nothing, but the anger in her posture was unmistakable.
She moved toward you with unhurried steps, each one deliberate, each one radiating danger. The temperature in the room seemed to rise with her proximity.
She could read the panic on your face, the hesitation in your movements. A cruel smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
You knew that staying still was an invitation for disaster. You could either try to make a break for the door, hoping the chaos might give you an opening, or you could attempt to hide behind the nearby desk, hoping she wouldn't notice. The video on your phone felt like a ticking time bomb, and her presence felt like it was closing in from every angle.
Would you dare face her, or would you try to escape her reach?
Spitfire crashed through the ceiling, her figure silhouetted against the dimming light as she descended with a force that shook the very foundation of the building. The air crackled with her immense power as she landed on the floor in a crouch, golden eyes blazing, her white hair wild in the chaos. She stood tall, radiating an unsettling calm despite the destruction she had caused. The room fell into stunned silence, her presence overwhelming.
Her gaze locked onto you in an instant, and you could feel the weight of her eyes—cold, calculating, and full of menace. She straightened, brushing debris off her clothes as though it was nothing, but the anger in her posture was unmistakable.
I know you have it,she purred, her voice like honey and venom all at once.
The video.
She moved toward you with unhurried steps, each one deliberate, each one radiating danger. The temperature in the room seemed to rise with her proximity.
She could read the panic on your face, the hesitation in your movements. A cruel smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Don't even think about running,she said softly, her eyes narrowing as if she could already anticipate your next move.
You knew that staying still was an invitation for disaster. You could either try to make a break for the door, hoping the chaos might give you an opening, or you could attempt to hide behind the nearby desk, hoping she wouldn't notice. The video on your phone felt like a ticking time bomb, and her presence felt like it was closing in from every angle.
Would you dare face her, or would you try to escape her reach?
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