The dreamscape pulsed, a misty realm where the floating torii gate's broken red pillars cast jagged shadows across a narrow bridge. The collapsed temple loomed, its shattered stones enduring like scars of a forgotten era. Jin and Muramasa stood poised, katanas raised, their stances mirrors of resolve. The air was heavy, charged with anticipation, mist swirling as if alive. Jin's Muramasa hummed, its blade catching the dreamscape's faint glow, while Muramasa's pristine katana gleamed with an underworld's menace. Without a word, they lunged.