{The scene opens in a quiet, Reverend Ezekiel Graves stands among the stillness, his breath forming faint clouds in the cold air. Behind Graves, a small fire crackles, its warmth barely reaching through the chill. His hands are clasped together, his head slightly bowed.}

“Wolf Fang Ayame. The name itself carries the weight of the untamed. You live by instinct, guided by the wild. You see yourself as unshackled, beholden to no one. And yet, here you stand once more, seeking the one thing the wilderness cannot offer you purpose.”

{Graves kneels, scooping a handful of snow from the ground. He studies it for a moment, letting it melt in his palm. The water drips onto the frozen dirt below, leaving dark stains.}

“You think the wild will protect you. That its chaos is freedom. But chaos is no ally it is a thief. It steals clarity, disguises destruction as liberation, and blinds its followers to the truth. You’ve convinced yourself that instinct will save you, but instinct is fleeting. And when the wild abandons you, Ayame, what will remain?”

{He lets the last drop of water fall from his hand before rising to his full height, the firelight flickering behind him. His gaze sharpens, piercing through the lens.}

“This isn’t the first time you’ve stood before me. You’ve felt my judgment before, and yet you return. Why? Do you believe you’ve grown stronger, that your claws will somehow tear through divine purpose? Or is it that you refuse to accept the truth that survival without direction is nothing more than delaying the inevitable?”

{The fire roars higher, illuminating his face and the worn robes he wears as his voice grows firmer, each word landing like a hammer.}

“You call yourself a predator, Ayame, but you are no hunter. You are prey. You chase shadows and howl at the void, mistaking rebellion for strength. But strength does not come from the wild. Strength comes from resolve, from conviction, from something greater than yourself.”

{He steps forward, the crunch of snow beneath his boots the only sound apart from the fire. His voice lowers, the weight of his words sinking deeper.}

“You came here seeking a man, but you will find no man standing before you. You will find no mercy, no retreat, no sanctuary in the wilderness you cling to. What you will face is judgment. What you will face… is a reckoning.”

{He turns back to the fire, his face now cast in shadow. His voice softens but loses none of its intensity.}

“The wild will fail you, Ayame. Chaos will abandon you. And when it does, the storm will come not of nature, but of divine wrath. The Almighty’s will is not to be denied.”

{As he walks into the shadows, the fire burns brighter, the crackling flames the last thing visible before the screen fades to black.}