Al extended two fingers toward the vicinity of the man's throat.
From his gesture there poured a violet-hued energy, coalescing into a razor of pure energy that nicked the man's neck with surgical precision and drew a thin ribbon of sanguine blood.
"You had better answer this, because it is precisely what piques my curiosity: why did you single me out with an intent to kill?" Al said, voice flat and dangerously inquisitive.
The man felt it—the suffocating, crystalline intimidation emanating from Al—and his entire body reacted in instantaneous physiological recoil, every nerve suddenly alive as though his very existence teetered on the precipice of oblivion.
He fixed his gaze upon Al's eyes, which glimmered a faint, murderous crimson as if poised to pounce at any instant.
Cold sweat beaded and raced down his face; even the purpled, bruised pallor of his countenance drew into a sallow, wan semblance of life.
