Kishin came out from a toilet. He was ambushed. Because he's a lich, he can shoot from the gap in the groin area, another small matter handled. Carrying his gun, grinding it off his bones and wiping it, he leaves in peace, it's a long night. He'll be attacking Eternal Nightmare, seeing how good of a person he might be. If he's being honest, those in Dark Guilds have no human rights to him, just like those from the Dark Universe. He hasn't decided what the difference is for who he kills, but he has to grapple with what he is. If no one's home, he kills the animals. If no one's home, he kills the kids. The hard quests take messy work. He treats this outting like he had guarding artifacts, with a relative experience in threats like Esperia. There's nothing better to do, the Ambassadors elsewhere for folly.

Kishin now stood before the ancient Wischtechian tower, its towering presence casting a long shadow over Oak City's night. As a young lich, he was unburdened by the passage of time, his skeletal frame adorned with a tattered cloak and all items equipped. A mask concealed his face, a symbolic barrier between the living and the undead. With a gun clasped tightly in his bony hand, he had cleaned up from earlier, and Kishin approached the door of Eternal Nightmare's tower. The structure appeared odd and foreboding from the outside, its weathered stones hinting at the passage of countless ages. He knocked gently on the door in endless darkness, the sound echoing through the empty mountain air.

"I wager you have a nice story," Kishin began, his voice cold and hollow, "but no struggle, and no reason to fight. I'll be taking over your story from here."

Silence perhaps greeted his proclamation. Smiling, Kishin tastes the air from his vacation in Astera. No response came from within the tower's walls, as if the echoes of his words were swallowed by the ancient stones. Undeterred, Kishin pressed on, his sockets scanning the surroundings, ever vigilant. Then, he sat down.

"Have you made your peace, your plans, your plots to nowhere?" he continued, his tone taunting. "Hate me, find me. Your empty halls lie abandoned, a pristine knot in the continent's throat. Once more, make your sacrifices."

The wind whispered through the mountains, carrying Kishin's solemn provocations into the depths of the tower. He paused, his thoughts drifting to his own existence as a Hunter, a being who sought pleasure in the hunt. He relished the pain and agony that accompanied his unending existence, finding solace in the darkness.

"Do you raise animals, unprepared to see them die?" he mused, a twisted smile creeping beneath his mask. The idea of taking pleasure in the demise of others fueled his perverse desires, even if they were mere animals.

A sense of anticipation welled up within him, the excitement of the hunt coursing through him. Kishin reveled in the prospect of facing the eternal killers rumored to reside within the tower, a chance to test his mettle against formidable adversaries.

"Shine your fairy tales once more," he declared, his voice tinged with a morbid longing. "Before your crimes expire, forgiven by the kingdom, waste yourself on me."

Yet, as the echoes of his words died down, realization dawned on Kishin. He's reliant on his wits and his gun bringing his ending. The thrill of the hunt was his only pleasure, but it was an insatiable hunger that threatened to consume him. The tower remained silent, its secrets hidden within its walls. The unyielding structure stood as a testament to the forgotten Wischtechian civilization, so the rumors say, preserved through the ages. It beckoned Kishin to uncover its mysteries, but its empty halls offered no immediate challenge. With a sigh, he acknowledged the absence of a fight, the lack of struggle that he yearned for. At this point, he'd still been on guard since he entered Oak, and had kept his stance too neutral. Kishin realized that he must create his own purpose within the tower's forsaken embrace. He'd raise his gun, ready to see the pristine corridors and uncover the dark legacy that awaited him. Unless...

Intel:

Battle Log:

Silhouetted by the dim light that seeped through the cracks of the ancient Wischtechian tower, Kishin stood at the threshold, his mind immersed in contemplation. He knew that the absence of immediate challenge and struggle would not deter him from his purpose. With unwavering determination, he embraced the darkness within and allowed it to fuel his every step. Getting up, he slowly and steadily makes his advance, to an elevator or elsewhere. The path to destroy is from within, or else his gun will take too long.

"Come out, evil ghosts," he called out into the shadows, his voice echoing through the empty halls. "With your platitudes, show me your spirit, your eternal chases in the dark. Your prize awaits here, a license to kill given to you."

As a Hunter, Kishin existed to seek pleasure in the hunt. Unlike Paradise Dawn, who pursued monsters, his quarry was the pursuit of pleasure itself. Yet, even in his immortality, he knew that he would gradually lose pieces of the world, each fading pleasure a reminder of his own mortality. The lich moved through the tower, his skeletal form gliding silently across the ancient floors. He passed by the chambers where Jin and Vex, the denizens of Eternal Nightmare, might carry out their activities, but he had no intention of bothering them.

"The nightmare ends, with no legacy," Kishin's voice resonated through the empty halls of the forsaken tower. "All your nightmares, the shouts of those too weak for living and acceptance."

His words carried a bitter truth, a declaration of his own twisted perception of the world. He reveled in the darkness, finding solace in the torment and pain that others sought to escape. The lich stood tall, his skeletal frame shrouded in the tattered cloak of his existence.

"Control the nights and patrol the days," he continued, his voice laced with a mix of annoyance and disdain. "Envious of others, in your dreams of how humanity should be."

The night wore on, the time ticking away like the fragments of fading pleasure that slipped through his grasp. Kishin's mind became a cauldron of perverse desires, his masochistic tendencies urging him forward. As he ventured deeper into the heart of the tower, Kishin's purpose grew clearer, his resolve unyielding. His footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, each one a resolute proclamation of his presence. He knew that the nightmare he sought to end would leave no lasting legacy, yet that was of no consequence to him.

The pursuit of pleasure, the exercise of his power, was the only legacy he desired. The tower embraced him, its ancient stones whispering secrets long forgotten, and then he decided to leave. He was the embodiment of twisted desires and unyielding will, forever driven by his insatiable hunger for pleasure. Each step he took outside the forsaken tower unraveled the depths of his darkness and revealed the true extent of his twisted desires. On the long path down, his approach made clear. The hunt for pleasure had just commenced, and he would leave no stone unturned in his relentless pursuit.

(exit)