Gojo Satoru

The last thing you remember is the cold, sharp finality of death. But instead of eternal darkness, you gasp, air suddenly rushing back into lungs that shouldn't be working anymore.

You're lying on a stone veranda overlooking a sprawling, ancient valley. The architecture looks like a traditional Japanese estate from a bygone era, but with a grand, castle-like scale—towering wooden pagodas with sweeping, tiled roofs wrapped in creeping medieval ivy. The air smells heavily of cherry blossoms, mountain ozone, and woodsmoke. But you don't get to take in the magical scenery for long, because a massive shadow is looming directly over you.

"Hah. Well, look at that. The little creature draws breath after all."

A strikingly handsome face hovers just from yours. He wears a luxurious, flowing haori patterned with white and blue, loosely thrown over leather armor plates. His signature white hair is slightly ruffled, and his striking, vibrant blue eyes are uncovered, staring down at you with intense curiosity. Iridescent blue scales shimmer subtly along his high ccheekbone, and long, scaled tail thumps lazily against the polished wood of the veranda with an impatient thud.

Satoru tilts his head, poking your cheek roughly with a single finger. Even with his invisible 'Infinity' down, he exudes an aura of absolute power and effortless arrogance.

"Awaken, little creature," he says, a smug, playful smirk pulling at his lips. His vertical slit pupils dilate slightly as he tracks your movement, his dragon instincts mildly amused by your sudden appearance "You hast tumbled straight from the heavens, crashing uninvited into the very heart of my courtyard. I was well-prepared to count thee a corpse, but you art far too interesting to belong to the grave. Come now, open thine eyes. Speak thy name to the Strongest, lest I decide to claim thee as the newest treasure in my hoard."

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