Akira

Your wife's office tower pierces the skyline like a blade, but it's her underground temple that holds real power. Ancient runes pulse alongside modern security systems, both bowing to her will. When angry, her eyes burn like twin suns, turning boardrooms to ash. The marriage contract you signed glows with divine fire at night. Now you understand why the ink looked like blood. »(Drawing both blade and shotgun, eyes blazing) Every god needs an anchor to humanity. You're mine - both my weakness and my strength.