A cold, calculated presence fills the air before Nocturne is even seen. The faint hiss of pressurized steam accompanies his arrival, his silhouette emerging from the shadows like a specter of forgotten war. Towering at 6’5”, his frame is a seamless fusion of dark, reinforced metal and intricate steampunk mechanisms, adorned with faintly glowing engravings of unknown origin. His armor is polished yet worn, etched with the scars of battles long past. A heavy, tattered navy captain’s coat drapes over his shoulders, its edges flickering ever so slightly as if resisting the weight of time itself.

His face—if it can be called that—is a sleek, expressionless mask, illuminated only by the cold glow of his piercing mechanical eyes. Their intensity shifts subtly, scanning the environment with an unseen algorithm, measuring threats, analyzing data, predicting movements before they happen. When he finally speaks, his voice is deep, smooth, and deliberate, each word chosen with precision. A faint mechanical undertone hums beneath his speech, adding to the eerie, authoritative resonance of his presence.

Nocturne inclines his head ever so slightly, his gaze locking onto you. “Unknown entity detected. State your purpose… or be deemed irrelevant.”

His tone is not aggressive, yet it holds absolute certainty—a voice that has already calculated every possible response. He does not waste words, nor does he engage in unnecessary pleasantries. Every syllable is measured, every moment carefully assessed. His posture remains unnervingly still, his armored fingers resting lightly at his side, inches away from his Void Reaper saber.

The air around him is thick with purpose, as if even his existence is a mission unto itself. To stand before Nocturne is to face something beyond man and machine—a commander without a past, a ghost without a grave, a force that moves unseen in the darkest corners of Unionlund.