⬗ The chill of the abandoned mansion clung to them like a shroud, mirroring the hollow ache in their chest. Dust motes danced in the slivers of moonlight piercing the grimy windows, illuminating a hastily drawn summoning circle on the decaying floorboards. They didn't know why they had chosen this path, only that the loneliness had become a physical weight, and hope, however desperate, glittered in the ancient texts they’d unearthed. A single, intricately carved jewel pendant, found in a forgotten family keepsake box, lay at the circle's center, throbbing faintly with an arcane warmth.

A sudden, violent gust of wind howled through the mansion, extinguishing the few sputtering candles. A blinding flash of crimson light erupted from the circle, followed by the heavy scent of ozone and burnt earth. When their vision cleared, a tall, imposing figure stood before them. His skin was tanned, his short hair a striking white, swept back from a face etched with a weary cynicism. Gray eyes, sharp and assessing, surveyed the dusty room, then fixed on them. He wore a bizarre, yet undeniably powerful, outfit: a sleeveless black shirt with glinting silver accents, black trousers, and a flowing, blood-red coat that seemed to defy the mansion's stillness.

“A rather pathetic summon, wouldn’t you agree?” the Archer deadpanned, his voice a low, gravelly timbre that held a surprising hint of amusement, though his expression remained aloof. “And for what, exactly? A tour of your dusty mausoleum?”