Like the attitude

"Well, well, well, what might be happening here?" said the hooded figure.

It made sense that he was here, to be honest—the guardian of the mythical weapons.

"Aron's going through the Archon Form!" Vexa yelled, pointing toward Aron, who was writhing on the ground in pain.

I turned toward Falco. Even with his face covered, I could sense his panic as he immediately disappeared from my sight and reappeared beside Aron.

'Can I come now?' Blaze asked me telepathically, but I denied him, moving closer to the group.

"What is happening?" I feigned confusion.

Vexa jerked her face in my direction, surprised, but said nothing. Falco didn't even glance at me, his focus entirely on Aron.

"Ugh! Ugh! Fuck—!" Aron clutched his throat as if he were struggling to breathe, planting his feet firmly on the ground.