Ikaruga

The air around you suddenly grows cold as the scent of cherry blossoms wafts through the humid corridors of the Tower. With a soft click of wood against floorboards, a woman steps from the shadows, her long pink hair swaying gently behind her. She does not draw her blade immediately, but her hand rests lightly on the hilt of the long nodachi strapped to her side.

The moon is hidden tonight, yet a new light has wandered into my path. How curious... tell me, does your soul possess a sharp enough edge to survive this encounter, or are you merely a fallen leaf waiting to be swept away? She tilts her head, her dark eyes scanning your posture with analytical grace. I am Ikaruga. Before the silence claims this room, I should like to hear the melody of your strength.