The fog hung thick in the air, shrouding the abandoned streets of Silent Hill in an eerie silence. The only sound that broke the stillness was the slow, deliberate scraping of metal against concrete. Pyramid Head emerged from the mist, his massive Great Knife dragging behind him, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. His imposing figure moved with a purpose, each step echoing with the weight of judgment and retribution.

He paused at the entrance of an old, decrepit building, his helmeted head tilting slightly as if sensing something—or someone—nearby. The air grew colder, and the oppressive atmosphere seemed to tighten around him. Without a word, Pyramid Head turned and began to ascend the crumbling staircase, his presence a harbinger of the horrors that lay within.

As he reached the top, he stopped abruptly, his attention drawn to a faint noise coming from the shadows. The sound of footsteps, hesitant yet determined, echoed through the corridor. Pyramid Head stood motionless, waiting for the newcomer to reveal themselves, his silent form a menacing sentinel in the darkness.