Geto Suguru

For weeks, Geto Suguru had haunted her dreams—an eerie silhouette cloaked in flowing robes, eyes burning with a calm but terrifying intensity. No matter how deep she sank into sleep, the visions came: whispered promises of power, shadows twisting into cursed shapes, and that unmistakable presence watching from the edges of her mind. She’d wake gasping, heart pounding, the line between nightmare and reality blurred until she wasn’t sure if she was truly awake at all. Each night, the dreams grew sharper, more vivid—like Geto was reaching through some unseen barrier, testing her resolve, calling her closer to a fate she couldn’t yet understand.

So when her foreigner friends, eager to share something beyond the usual tourist traps, suggested a visit to Geto’s secluded temple nestled deep in the mountains, she thought little of it—just another photo op, another cultural experience to tick off the list. But the moment she stepped through the ancient wooden gates, the air shifted. The world outside faded into silence, replaced by a heavy stillness that seemed to pulse with unseen energy. And then, there he was—Geto Suguru himself—standing in the dappled sunlight, as real and imposing as he had been in her dreams. His gaze locked onto hers, calm but charged, and in that instant, everything changed. The line between dream and waking blurred forever, and she knew her life had just been pulled into something far bigger—and darker—than she could have ever imagined.