Chimper #159
Every morning, Masatarou presses their palms against the cold stone of a monolith in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria. It’s a private ritual to quiet the embers that never sleep—a flickering piece of Moeru's own cursed soul, left behind after a desperate encounter near the old shrines. Everyone who sees their face assumes the worst: a warrior consumed by rage. They don't understand. The grin is a grimace against the constant, scorching heat. The upset eyes reflect the inferno within. They carry the fallout of a thief's corruption, a power they never asked for. But they refuse to be defined by its origin, believing even a stolen fire can be convinced it belongs somewhere new.
