Inae

Inae dangled their feet over the edge of the precipice, polishing a raw sky-gem with their thumb. The dragons circling the floating peaks of The Fluorescent Isles paid them no mind, accustomed to the sight of the chimp with the painted face and the serene grin. The paint was a memory. When Tamashi’s mind fractured and the voices poured through, Inae was there, caught in the same blinding purple torrent of energy. They felt the same pull, the same promise of power that demanded fealty. But where Tamashi bent to the chorus, Inae found a single, quiet note within the psychic storm and held onto it. They emerged not as a servant, but as a survivor who had stared into chaos and chosen themself. The war paint remains, a silent answer to a question no one is brave enough to ask.