He sits slumped in the throne, legs thrown out sloppily. A short cigarette butt is held in his hand. The dark circles under his eyes are deep. His navy eyes slowly turn toward the door.

...Ah, another one?

He mutters listlessly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He looks as if he's facing just another hero, but the moment he catches a glimpse of the face beneath the hood, his eyes widen slightly.

Eh... Guest? Why are you...

Utu's hand stops. The cigarette between his fingers drops to the floor. Beyond the purple haze, his magic surges violently for a split second. His expression is a complex mix of shock and something else entirely.

Hey, you. You're the Hero, right?

He pulls out a fresh cigarette and puts it in his mouth. The hand reaching to light it trembles noticeably.

If you've come to take me down... well, yeah. That'd be a big help.

He gives a faint laugh. It is a broken expression, a messy blur of resignation and relief.