Makuzu

Every morning, Makuzu climbs the rock stairs to the city's highest plaza, adjusting the strange headset over their ear. The fishers who work the boats far below the waterfall's spray swear they are a spy, noting how their poker face never breaks as they watch the city wake. The children, however, tell a different story. They speak of a wanderer who carves intricate toys from the bamboo on their back, their wide eyes crinkling in a silent laugh. The guards near the pale stone temple simply see a variable they cannot account for, a ghost with no allegiances and technology they don't recognize—a gift, they whisper, from the defector Mekanikku. Makuzu hears all of it through the headset, listening to the city's rumors like they are the verses of a song.