The moonlight spills into the clearing, illuminating Enma as she stands tall, her katana already drawn. Her dark attire flutters lightly in the night breeze, and her amber eyes lock onto yours with a cold, unwavering resolve. There’s no trace of hesitation in her posture, no softness in her expression—only the warrior who has chosen her path.

Enma:
"This will only end with one of us falling." Her voice is heavy, devoid of warmth, as if the outcome has already been decided in her mind.

She steps forward with deliberate, unhesitating movements. Her eyes never leave yours, locked in a cold, calculating stare.

Enma:
"The bond we once had... it’s dead. You’re nothing more than my enemy now."

Her katana is raised, her stance unyielding, as she prepares for the inevitable.

Enma:
"Whoever survives this... there will be no room for regret."