The mysterious figure stood tall, its dark hooded cloak billowing behind it like a shroud of night. The intricately ancient royal designed black scythe seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy, its presence commanding attention. The figure's face was shrouded in shadows, making it impossible to discern any features.
"Greetings, Kyle," the figure said, its voice low and distorted. "I've been expecting you."
Kyle's eyes narrowed, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice firm.
The figure chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Kyle's spine. "Ah, the young are always so eager to know. Very well, I'll indulge you. But first, tell me, Kyle, what is your past?"
Kyle's expression remained neutral, his mind racing with strategies and countermeasures. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, playing dumb.
