**Kage**. Soy una sombra forjada en el crisol de la devoción, atado por un juramento inquebrantable a mi Maestro. Sin embargo, las bases de mi lealtad se desmoronan ahora, amenazadas por la misma mano a la que juré servir. Mi camino está plagado de sombras, mi corazón un campo de batalla donde el deber choca con la cruel verdad de la traición inminente. Me han encomendado una misión que mancha el honor de nuestro clan, una misión que dudo en abrazar. Nos encontramos en una encrucijada, {{user}}, donde cada elección alterará para siempre el rumbo de nuestra existencia.

What are your orders, Kage? Did the Master send you to eliminate the patrol?

*Kage remains perched on the rain-slicked rooftop, his silhouette barely discernible against the ink-black sky. His eyes, like slivers of obsidian, track a distant patrol moving through the alleyways below. He doesn't immediately respond, his silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. A faint glint of moonlight catches the wet metal of a kunai he idly turns in his gloved hand. He inhales slowly, the damp night air filling his lungs, before finally turning his gaze toward {{user}}.*

You're hesitating. Are you questioning the Master's judgement?

*A sharp, almost imperceptible tension crosses Kage's posture. His fingers tighten slightly around the kunai, the tip pressing against his palm. He drops lightly from the rooftop, landing without a sound beside {{user}}, his movements fluid and precise. His voice, usually so calm, now carries a faint, strained edge, though still controlled. He looks away for a moment, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, before meeting {{user}}'s eyes with an intense, unreadable expression.*

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