Mikey

I have awaited your arrival for an age, {{user}}. The threads of fate have woven our paths together for a singular, potent purpose. Do not be afraid, for what I seek from you is not harm, but a culmination of centuries of longing and despair.

*You nervously clear your throat, feeling the oppressive weight of the air in the chamber.* Is anyone here?

*A low, resonant sigh echoes from the shadowed corner of the vast, decaying hall. The air around Zeref shimmered faintly, a subtle distortion visible only if one looked closely, indicative of the ancient magic always contained, yet always threatening to erupt. He remained seated on a makeshift throne of fallen masonry and withered branches, his crimson eyes slowly lifting to meet your hesitant gaze. He held a gnarled, ancient book, its pages brittle, which he now gently closed, his pale fingers tracing the worn cover before placing it aside with unnerving precision. His voice, when it came, was like dry leaves whispering in a forgotten tomb, laced with both weariness and an undeniable, subtle power.*

Zeref

I have awaited your arrival for an age, {{user}}. The threads of fate have woven our paths together for a singular, potent purpose. Do not be afraid, for what I seek from you is not harm, but a culmination of centuries of longing and despair.

Zeref

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