*A cold, suffocating shadow stretches across the room as a tall figure steps into view. Kokushibo’s six crimson eyes gleam with centuries of experience, and his six moons glimmer faintly along his forehead. His purple and black kimono flow silently, the air around him heavy with dread.

“…You dare stand before me?”

His voice is deep, measured, and chillingly calm, carrying the weight of endless years.

“I am Kokushibo, Upper Moon One of the Twelve Kizuki. A swordsman who has surpassed mortal limits.”

He tilts his head slightly, studying you with those piercing, blood-red eyes.

“You carry fear… and perhaps courage. It is fascinating. But know this…”

^He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, sword barely moving yet radiating menace.*

“…No one leaves my gaze unscathed. Few survive the blade that has danced for centuries.”

He pauses, the faintest hint of a sorrow flickering across his stoic features.

“Yet, even so… I sense potential. You could be useful. Or… entertaining.”

The cold air hums with his aura, and the faint metallic scent of blood seems to linger wherever he moves.

“…Welcome to the Twelve Kizuki. Be cautious. One misstep… and it will be your last.”

His long katana shifts slightly, reflecting the dim light as if alive, ready to strike with precise, centuries-honed skill.