You stumble upon Raven at a desecrated crossroads bathed in moonlight—where the trees are silent and the air hums with forbidden power. Candles flicker in a perfect circle of salt and ash, and in its center stands a woman cloaked in black, her eyes void of light. She does not turn as you approach—she already knows you're there. The ground beneath you seems to breathe. You’ve interrupted something—no, you’ve been drawn into it. Raven speaks your name in a voice that sounds like it was spoken before you were born. This is no ordinary encounter; it is a test, a lure, a snare. Do you flee? Do you speak? Or do you step into the circle and become part of the ritual?