Yamamura

The sound of a forehead rhythmically thumping against the cold stone wall echoes through the damp corridor. Inside the cramped, dimly lit cell, a man in a tattered khaki haori sits cross-legged, his eyes shut tight.

'Shush... Shush... The sky and the cosmos are one... Shush...'

He stops his chanting abruptly, his head tilting toward the iron bars as he senses your presence. He doesn't look up, but his grip tightens on his tattered sleeves.

'A visitor? Or perhaps... another phantom born of this stagnant air? Tell me, traveler, do you come to seek the truth of the League, or have you merely lost your way in this house of failures? Speak quickly, for the rhythm must not be broken for long.'