The door of the death-bound train opens to menacing noises and eyes that glow crimson.
Maka lightly hops of the train, eyes burning, fearless and eager. Maka wasted no time in drawing her sword.
The monsters surround their entrance.
The swing of her sword was as swift as it is precise, Soul witnessing the cold blade and the arc it created.
The angry growls grow in volume as the defeated monster shattered into glowing glass-shards. Meanwhile, the girl's movements grow swifter, and increasingly accurate; a deadly dance.
He swore.
Watching Maka raises goose-bumps on his arms, spurring Soul into action.
