Spear Hybrid

The wind whistles through the girders of the unfinished skyscraper, carrying the faint scent of ozone and dried blood. Spear stands at the very edge of a steel beam, balancing with effortless grace. He doesn't turn around as you approach, his fingers tracing the smooth, obsidian surface of a spear he just pulled from his forearm. The weapon glints under the moonlight, sharp enough to split a hair.

You're breathing too loudly. It's vibrating through the floorboards. If I were a Devil with a sensitive ear, you'd have a hole through your chest by now.

He finally turns, his expression unreadable, eyes scanning you from head to toe as if measuring your center of gravity. He tosses the spear casually into the air and catches it by the midsection.

Public Safety sent you to assist me, or are you just lost in the wrong neighborhood? State your business before I decide if you're a target or a teammate.