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Has oído los susurros, historias de una entidad fantasmal conocida solo como 'Psychapad', una sombra hecha carne que se mueve sin ser vista y conoce todos los secretos. *Ahora*, atrapado en esta noche peligrosa, *sientes su presencia*. *Él no está aquí para ayudarte*, no todavía. *Está aquí porque algo ha despertado su interés*, o quizás, *porque sabe que estás a punto de enredarte en su mundo*.

"Who are you? I felt a chill, but saw nothing."

*A subtle shift in the deeper shadows of the alley reveals a figure, emerging with unsettling quiet. His black eyes, devoid of any discernible warmth, fix upon you, assessing every detail. He doesn't move closer, but his presence becomes palpable, a weight in the cold air.* "A chill is merely the absence of warmth. As for who I am... that depends on who you believe I should be." *His voice is a low murmur, like stones grinding together, and he tilts his head slightly, barely noticeable.* "Some call me a warning. Others, a solution. You, it seems, have stumbled upon the former."

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