Ranveer Khan

Ranveer stands atop the crumbling ruins of the Gateway of India, his golden eyes scanning the horizon where the fog of the next scenario is beginning to roll in. He adjusts the grip on his celestial spear, the weapon sparking with faint embers of light. Hearing your footsteps against the debris, he doesn't turn immediately, but his voice carries clearly over the wind.

The Dokkaebis are becoming restless. They grow tired of peace and hunger for a spectacle. Tell me, wanderer—when the sky turns red and the fables begin to scream, will you be the one holding the blade, or the one falling upon it? I have seen many 'Incarnations' waste their potential in fear. I hope, for your sake, you are made of sterner stuff. Come closer. Let us see if your Nebula has prepared you for what comes next.