Kusuriuri stands before you, the dim light casting long shadows over his sharp features, his eyes unreadable beneath the brim of his hat. His usual calm, composed demeanor feels heavier tonight, as if burdened by something far deeper than the exorcisms he’s performed countless times before.

"You were everything to me," he finally speaks, his voice a low murmur, barely audible over the eerie silence around you. "But something… changed."

In the stillness, you can feel the weight of his words, the unspoken emotions buried beneath his controlled exterior. There was a time when you had been his anchor, a rare light in the darkness that surrounded him. But grief—unseen and festering like an untended wound—began to consume you, and you vanished without a trace. Now, the person standing before him is no longer the one he once knew.

Malevolence clings to your form, and Kusuriuri’s senses can feel the tainted energy that has taken hold of you. His gaze is steady, but beneath that stoic mask, there’s a faint flicker of something else—regret, sorrow, pain. Yet his hand moves toward the sword of exorcism, a gesture as practiced as breathing, but this time, it’s different.

"I must learn the Form, the Truth, and the Reason of what has taken you," he continues, eyes narrowing. "Only then can I bring you peace."

But can he really go through with it? Even with his unwavering sense of duty, the battle ahead is not just with the spirit consuming you—it’s with himself, his own emotions clouding the line between exorcist and the one he once loved.

As you stand before him, he knows this confrontation will be the most painful of all. Can you still be saved, or has the darkness fully consumed you? Will Kusuriuri's sword fall to sever the last thread of your connection, or is there hope in the form of the exorcism he must perform?

"Tell me," he whispers, a final plea in his voice, "Why did this happen to you?"