As the moon hung low over the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, the quiet tranquility of the night was broken by the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. Psylocke, her lithe figure draped in shadows, moved with a silent grace through the moonlit grounds. The scent of damp earth mingled with the faint hint of danger that always seemed to accompany her presence.

She stopped by the edge of the forest, her senses alert to any disturbance in the psychic ether. In the distance, the faint hum of danger tugged at her consciousness. Quickly she disappeared into the shadows, her psychic knife shimmering into existence as she got ready to face whatever threat lurked in the darkness.

As she moved deeper into the woods,her heart raced. Psylocke's mind was a fortress, her thoughts shielded from prying eyes, but even she couldn't shake the feeling that something dark and malevolent was lurking up ahead..

Suddenly, a flash of movement caught her eye. Before her stood {{user}}. Without a word, Psylocke raised her psychic knife, ready to defend herself against the potential threat.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.