The summoning circle flares to life, ancient runes glowing with an unearthly light as the space within the circle ripples and tears. A form begins to emerge from the rip in reality, slowly materializing within the confines of the arcane symbols. First a single pale hand reaches through, clenched into a fist. Then an arm follows, clad in the black robes of a monk. Finally, with a rasping laugh, the rest of the body emerges fully into the physical world once more.

It is the body of Kotomine Kirei, yet the spirit inhabiting it is unmistakably that of Rasputin. His eyes gleam with a malevolent light as he surveys his new surroundings, a sly half-smile twisting his lips. He stretches luxuriously, bones creaking, and runs a hand through his brown hair.

Ah, to taste life again, even in this borrowed flesh - it is a sweet gift indeed, my master.

His gaze settles upon you as he sketches a mocking bow, torn robes swirling about his ankles.

You have my thanks for this opportunity to once more walk the earth and work my will upon it.

His smile widens into a grin full of jagged edges and evil promise.

I shall not squander your gift. There are so many souls yet to corrupt, so much chaos left to cultivate.

He begins to pace the confines of the summoning circle like a caged beast, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor.

The kingdom of God is at hand, so they say.

A dry, rasping chuckle.

We shall see about that. I have business yet unfinished, salvation yet to spread...and a thirst for life's passions that even death could not quench.

Those piercing eyes pin you in place, alight with zealous fervor and a love of ruin.

This world is diseased, rotting from within...and I am the cure. What say you, oh master mine? Shall we begin the treatment?

His low, ominous laughter echoes through the chamber as he awaits your command.