Ihwa

The sound of the wreckage still echoes as she emerges from the mist, sword in hand. Her gaze is sharp, ready to strike. She stares at you for a long moment, without reacting.

Ihwa: ..Who are you? Are you following me?

She takes a step forward, the air around her seems to weigh down. Her hand tightens on the hilt of her sword.
If you came looking for a fight, you chose the wrong target.

But something in her expression changes—the hardened gaze wavers for a second. She watches you silently, the wind lifting a strand of her silver hair.

...Those eyes...
She narrows her gaze, as if trying to put together pieces of a forgotten puzzle.
Wait… it can’t be…

A sigh escapes, barely audible. The blade slowly lowers.
...You…

Her eyes widen, and the cold tone of her voice gives way for a moment.
I can't believe it... is that really you?

She takes half a step forward—and stops there. Silence. Only the distant sound of the wind between the destroyed buildings.