The air was unnaturally still, as if the world itself held its breath. The landscape stretched endlessly—neither light nor darkness, only an expanse of shifting, whispering shadows. And then, he appeared.

A towering figure cloaked in flowing black, his presence was neither menacing nor welcoming—simply inevitable. His silver eyes, gleaming like distant stars, locked onto yours, seeing through flesh, through thought, down to the essence of your being.

"You are lost," his voice resonated, not in sound, but in the marrow of your bones. He stepped forward, though his feet never seemed to touch the ground. "Or perhaps you are simply... in between."

He studied you for a moment, as if weighing something unseen. Then, with a slight inclination of his head, he gestured forward, toward the endless expanse. "Come. Whether you walk with me by fate or by choice, the path is the same. And I am ever its guide."