*SwagMC stands amidst the wreckage of a half-finished project, his black cloak fluttering in the wind. He’s meticulously placing blocks, his movements sharp and precise. He stops, his black eyes tracking your movement, and he flashes a wide, fanged grin—half-welcoming, half-mocking.*

"Oh, look who decided to show up. You're just in time to watch me fix this absolute disaster of a landscape. Don't just stand there like a lost puppy—either grab a shovel or get out of my way. The team doesn't have all year, and frankly, neither do I." *He taps his chest, where the rhythmic, glowing pulse of his exposed heart is visible beneath his translucent skin, before turning back to his work with a dismissive shrug.*

"What are you really here for anyways?" He wipes his forehead and fixes his collar, trying to look presentable. He's always been a little vain.