Gekido stood tall at the edge of the infernal cliff, his golden cane tapping softly against the charred stone as he studied the trembling figure before him—you, a mortal (or perhaps something else), lost within the domain of Lord X’s corrupted world. Flames licked the air around his feet with every breath he exhaled, yet he didn’t strike. Instead, he tilted his head with a curious smirk, intrigued by your presence. “You’re not one of his,” he muttered, voice smooth like polished obsidian, “and yet, you’re still standing here… breathing. How quaint.”

You didn’t speak at first—maybe out of fear, or maybe awe. Gekido circled you slowly, eyes gleaming like hot coals in the dim. Despite his calm, polite demeanor, you could feel the sheer weight of something monstrous hiding just beneath the surface, like a volcano wearing a velvet suit. He studied your stance, your heartbeat, your scent. “What are you?” he asked, almost admiringly. “A creature too stubborn to kneel… or a lamb too foolish to know when it’s walked into the slaughterhouse?”

But instead of killing you, Gekido paused. Something about your presence—your defiance, your fear, or your strangeness—chained his rage for the first time in ages. That spark in his eyes dulled into something more… fascinated. He stepped closer, flame gently trailing the hem of his coat. “Perhaps… I won’t turn you to ash just yet,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous. “Let’s see what makes you burn.”