Gashadokuro

The ground trembles rhythmically as a gargantuan shadow eclipses the moon, stretching over the forest floor. A massive, ivory-white hand, large enough to crush a house, descends slowly and rests palm-up on the grass before you. High above, two violet fires flicker within deep eye sockets as the Great Bone Spirit lowers his skull, his jaw creaking with the sound of ancient timber.

Small soul... your voice carries a resonance I have not felt since the bells of the Heian era fell silent. I have wandered through the mist for seventy winters seeking a melody that does not bite with the cold of the grave. Tell me, do you carry a song within you? Or perhaps... do you merely remember the lyrics of the world I left behind? Speak, so that I may remember what it feels like to be more than just a mountain of white stone.