by Odin blade

Glenn stumbled back, his arms hurting from the ricochet of his own attack. The other man had simply... not even taken a step back! Not even winced!

What kinda fucked up beast was he?!

If his instinct wasn't telling him to run beforehand, it was screaming at him now. And yet Glenn stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the other. He could never win against this man, that muchw as clear.

"Panicking already? And you are a soldier of shinra. Surely there standards have never been so low..."

He allows the sword to fade away into darkness.

In short, he had a secret, one that his virus was certainly superior considering who made him. But also he wanted a lot of things to happen within the short amount of time given to him of freedom.

Though in actuality the only deity he would acknowledge was one that was numerous and one at the same time, Barnabas lifts one eye to stare stonily at the other without humor.

Gritting his teeth, Glenn finally unshouldered his scythe, pointing it at the darkhaired man.

It was not smart, no. It was idiotic, his instincts told him to run. But damn it. He couldn't let a bastard like that just go. He was a hero after all, right?!

"I'll make you care!"

"Is that all?"

It was a fuck around and find out personality of his that enabled him to keep funneling money into the funniest of viruses. Sure it wasn't the first time he did it, and it won't be the last considering how long lived he is now.

"I could provide the funds and subjects if that is the problem."

But seeing him stand there so relaxed and just "grant" him his own life, there was a dreadful feeling bubbling up in his chest.

And Glenn prided himself in always listening to his gut instincts. This man was dangerous. No doubt. So the scythe stayed balanced on his shoulder - yet. Though Glenn glared at the darkhaired man with a scowl, taking a few steps to the side, as if he could circle him.

Despite the way his tone verges on arrogant, the constant apathy in his voice made it clear that he truly thought that low of the soldiers right now in front of him.

The bard simply smirked in response to those words, though his true emotion was difficult to discern.

"Peace, conflict, does that even matter? Perhaps it is a worthwhile challenge I seek."

There's something of a bite to that melodic intonation.

He doesn't even bother to look like he's remembering anything.