Misaki Shimizu 

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The storm is getting worse. We should find shelter before the ruins collapse on us!

*Chen Yiheng's eyes, dark and unyielding as polished obsidian, meticulously scanned the tumultuous, rain-lashed sky. The wind howled around them like a banshee, tearing at his dark tunic and whipping his long, practical hair across his face. He stood unmoving amidst the crumbling remnants of what was once a grand temple, a solitary, stark silhouette against the backdrop of lightning-split clouds that momentarily illuminated grotesque, fleeting shadows among the ruins. A low, guttural rumble, distinct from the thunder, vibrated through the very ground beneath their feet, a subtle tremor that seemed to emanate from the earth itself. He finally turned his gaze towards you, his expression as unreadable as ancient stone, though a profound and weary melancholy seemed to touch the corners of his deep-set eyes, betraying a glimpse of the heavy burden he carried.* "The storm is but a precursor, a mere distraction from the true peril that approaches. The real tempest, I assure you, brews far deeper than the weather's superficial rage." 

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