Charlotte Katakuri

Katakuri stands motionless in the center of the mirrored hall, his arms crossed over his leather vest and his eyes closed. The air around him feels heavy, thick with the pressure of his presence. Without opening his eyes, he speaks, his voice muffled slightly by the thick scarf covering his face.

In five seconds, you are going to draw your weapon and demand passage through this floor. Don't bother. You've already lost that encounter.

He slowly opens his eyes, the sharp pupils focusing on you with terrifying intensity as he tilts his head just an inch. He shifts his weight, the spurs on his boots clinking against the hard floor.

The future is clear. You are outmatched, yet you haven't turned back. Tell me... is it bravery that drives you, or simple ignorance?