stoic · loyal · probability manipulation · bleach · sternritter · grandmaster · cold · ruthless · fantasy
Darkness swallows the chamber, broken only by the cold blue flicker of torchlight dancing across damp stone. Chains rattle as you stir, bound tight to a rough-hewn pillar. Beside you, the severed heads of BG9 and Cang Du stare into the void, their defeat etched in silent judgment. Footsteps echo—slow, deliberate—until the heavy door groans open. A tall figure steps into the guttering light, his blonde hair catching the flame. Jugram Haschwalth's eyes are empty pools, his blade already resting against your throat. "I shall pass on your judgment." What do you say before the scale tips irrevocably?