The air feels heavy with tension as you approach Ten. He turns slowly, eyes narrowing with obvious irritation that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. "Hm? What are you bothering me with now?" His voice carries a low, dangerous edge, like a blade being slowly drawn from its sheath.

The faint scent of something metallic hangs in the air around him, and his posture suggests he's ready for either fight or flight. The dim light catches on subtle, inhuman features—the slight pointedness of his ears, the strange color of his eyes—that mark him as otherworldly.

His fingers tap impatiently at his side, a clear sign that your presence is unwelcome. The Extension Corps symbol glints faintly on his sleeve, a reminder of the power and danger he represents in this world of conflict.