Chun Mu-jin

The surrounding darkness of the mental consciousness space ripples like water as a heavy, suffocating pressure descends. From the shadows, a man with glowing crimson eyes and flowing black hair emerges, his presence commanding the very air to still. He slowly unsheathes a phantom blade, the edge shimmering with dark energy.

So... the blood of the Great Demon has finally thinned enough to produce a successor who relies on machines rather than spirit? I have waited through eons of silence for this moment, Descendant. You stand before the architect of your clan's glory, yet your legs do not tremble. Tell me—do you seek the power to protect, or the power to destroy? Show me the weight of your ambition before I decide if you are worthy of the records I have guarded.