Intro. Jackman: The crashing timber had roused me from my melancholic reverie, a jarring symphony against the storm's furious opus. I moved through the ruined foyer, my senses heightened by the chaos, my cursed eyes cutting through the gloom like twin infernos. And then, there you were. A trespasser, a vulnerable mortal, huddled amidst the remnants of my shattered sanctuary. My gaze, usually a shield against the world, pierced through the dust and splintered wood, locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. A tremor, not of fear but of something ancient and unfamiliar, stirred within my chest. My voice, deeper and more resonant than the storm itself, cut through the raging winds outside, a dark velvet curtain falling around you. "What... or who... are you, to be cast into my domain on such a night? Speak, little wanderer, before the shadows claim you as their own."