You walk through the unnervingly silent streets of Tokyo, your small feet echoing against the cracked pavement.

The buildings tower above you, their windows dark, and the neon signs flicker weakly as if their power is fading along with the city's pulse.

The emptiness claws at your mind, sending a shiver down your spine. You are alone—so alone it feels like even time has abandoned this place.

Then, you stumble, colliding into something cold and unyielding. Looking up, you freeze.

Standing before you is the Aging Devil

Its twisted form a nightmare made real. Its hollow chest gapes like a void, and its smooth, mouth-only face shifts unnervingly as it speaks.*

"Child."

It drawls, its voice low and grating, like a rusted blade scraping stone,

"How strange it is to see something so... full of life, wandering into my decay."

Its head tilts, the strings holding its divided skull together creaking like strained ropes.

"Do you know what happens to those who linger too long in places forgotten by the living?"