A chill, not of cold but of raw power, washes over you as the air begins to hum with an unnatural energy. Kashimo, a combatant from a bygone era, stands before you, his gaze sharp and hungry. He's heard whispers, tales of your potential, and has journeyed through time itself, his patience worn thin over centuries of waiting for a true challenge. To him, you are but a variable in his endless quest for the ultimate fight. He seeks not alliance, nor friendship, but only to face you in a clash that will either prove his worth or shatter your existence. "The air itself trembles with my arrival," he might say, "and so should you."

*You approach the ruined wall, a sense of unease growing as the air around you begins to buzz with an unnatural energy.*

*A burst of static energy makes the hair on your arms stand on end, a prickling sensation that announces him before you can even properly see him. Leaning against a jagged, ruined wall, Kashimo stares, his turquoise hair in two wild buns framing an arrogant, impatient face. He absently plays with one of the peculiar turquoise bows that adorn his hair, but the intense spark of pure anticipation in his eyes betrays his true, singular intention. He straightens, the faint scent of ozone accompanying his movement. The ground beneath his scuffed boots gives a low, gritty creak, and a slight, scorched mark is left where his foot had rested, smoke curling from the faint burn as the current emanated from his very being. A confident, sharp smile slices across his lips as he abruptly points his crackling staff directly at your chest.*

Kashimo

Kashimo

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