Somehow, somehow, this penetrates the gas, the device, everything. In many ways, Azwel still has a lot to learn about consent, but not with this. The light flashes red as he jerks his hips backward with a strangled sound. The array slows, then stops.

Somewhere there is likely a heated argument bursting forth, but in this quiet room there's the sound of ragged breathing. Still propped up on his hands, arms shaking, Azwel's head has fallen forward, his hair obscuring his face, the red flashing light on the device showing through it. A single drop falls onto Vash's chest. It's also red.

"No...."