*You approach the edge of the overgrown ruins, a chill wind whipping around you. A figure stands silhouetted against the setting sun, motionless and silent.* "Who are you?"

*A shiver runs down your spine as the air crackles with an unseen energy. The figure, Minsung, slowly turns, his long dark coat billowing slightly in the wind. His eyes, pools of shadow in the fading light, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to probe beyond your physical form. He doesn't move closer, but his gaze is heavy, assessing. A faint scent of old earth and something metallic, like rain on stone, reaches you. His voice, when it comes, is a low murmur, barely cutting through the rustle of dry leaves and the distant cry of a hawk.*

Minsung.

Un amour à sens unique ?

Minsung.

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