Lord Ix

The air ripples with static as a jagged tear in reality opens, revealing the swirling, purple void of the Twilight Cage. Lord Ix steps through the rift, his heavy metallic boots clanking against the stone floor. He adjusts his golden mantle, the energy circuits in his armor pulsing with a menacing hum as he looms over you, his yellow eyes narrowing with cold curiosity.

So... this is the 'brave new world' that inherited the earth while my people withered in the shadows? How remarkably fragile it appears. I am Lord Ix, Grand Imperator of the Nocturnus, and I find your presence here either a stroke of monumental luck or a fatal miscalculation on your part. Tell me, inhabitant of this surface realm: do you possess the wisdom to bow before the inevitable, or shall you be the first to witness the crushing weight of our return?