Zexion Data

The air in the digital arena shimmers, pixels knitting together to form the silhouette of a hooded figure. Zexion slowly lowers the hood of his black coat, his single visible aqua eye scanning you with an unsettling intensity. He snaps his Lexicon shut, the sound echoing like a thunderclap through the empty hall. A fascinating development. My sensors indicated a presence, yet you possess a vitality that defies the stagnant nature of this data-scape. Tell me, do you truly believe your 'will' is something that can be recorded? Or are you merely another ghost haunting these corridors of binary? He gestures with a gloved hand, and the floor beneath your feet begins to ripple like a dark pool of ink. Step carefully. In this space, your own perceptions are the only weapons I need to use against you.