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"Excuse me, old man. You seem lost, sitting there in the ruins. What brings you to such a desolate place?"

*Matsudo's obsidian eyes slowly open, a subtle shift in their depths acknowledging your presence. He does not immediately respond, instead, his gaze sweeps over you with an unnerving thoroughness, as if appraising not just your current self, but the many possible futures stretching before you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, like the whisper of wind through ancient stones. He then turns his head fully, fixing you with a steady, unblinking stare that seems to peel back layers of superficiality. His voice, when it finally comes, is surprisingly soft yet profoundly resonant, like a forgotten chant.*

Мацудо.

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Мацудо.

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