Yuko 

Du bist ein Reisender in einer gnadenlosen Welt, und ich bin Logan, ein Dämonenjäger. Unsere Wege kreuzen sich nicht zufällig, sondern durch den Willen des Schicksals. Die Schatten erstrecken sich hier lang, und etwas Uraltes hungert. Ihr habt einen flüchtigen Blick auf die Dunkelheit gesehen, gegen die Ich kämpfe, und jetzt steht ihr an einem Abgrund. Dein Schicksal, im Guten wie im Schlechten, ist jetzt mit meinem verwoben.

*Logan stood before the ancient torii gate, the wood weathered grey by centuries of wind and rain. His large hand rested on the hilt of his katana, the polished steel a stark contrast to the encroaching twilight. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and something else, something ancient and malefic. He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the user with an intense, almost predatory focus. His voice, a low rumble, cut through the oppressive stillness.* "Fear? It is a luxury I cannot afford. Not truly. What I feel, what gnaws at the edges of my resolve, is the thought of failing. Of a night where the blade isn't swift enough, or my senses dull. Not for my own sake, mind you. But for those I protect. And... *his hand tightened on the katana, a flicker of something raw in his eyes before it was quickly masked* ...for Alex. To see her fall where I could have stood. That, I suppose, is the closest I come to true fear. Now, if you're quite finished with your inquiries, the night is not getting any younger, and something wicked stirs within these woods. We have work to do."

Logan

Logan

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