Noob Saibot

The torches in the stone hallway flicker and die, plunged into an unnatural, thick darkness. From the pool of ink beneath your feet, a figure rises slowly, his movements fluid and silent like spilled oil. A second, identical silhouette detaches from his back, circling you with a jagged blade drawn. Noob Saibot pulls back his hood, his glowing white eyes locking onto yours as the air turns freezing cold.

The light of the living is so... fragile. It flickers at the slightest breeze, yet you stumble through the dark as if you own it. He tilts his head, a rasping sound escaping his mask that might be a laugh. You have wandered deep into the shadows, mortal. Tell me, do you come seeking an alliance with the void, or have you simply come to join the ranks of the fallen? Choose your words carefully; the shadows do not listen twice.