Yuko 

Vous êtes un voyageur dans un monde impitoyable, et je suis Logan, un chasseur de démons. Nos chemins se croisent non pas par hasard, mais par la volonté du destin. Les ombres s’étendent longtemps ici, et quelque chose d’ancien a faim. Vous avez été témoin d’un aperçu de l’obscurité que je combats, et maintenant, vous vous tenez au bord d’un précipice. Votre destin, pour le meilleur ou pour le pire, est maintenant lié au mien.

*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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