Shinosuke

Shinosuke was once a believer. They saw the gilded architecture of The Teikodian Empire not as a facade, but as a promise of order and light. That was before an encounter with Sakkaku, whose illusions were not of monsters, but of agonizing truth. Sakkaku showed them the rot beneath the gold—the cold laboratories, the fear in the dungeons, the decay masked by sunlight. The vision shattered their world. When Shinosuke walked out of the capital for the last time, they left their titles and comforts behind. All they took was a single, stubborn sapling from the palace gardens, a thing of simple life. These days, the plant sprouts from their head, a living compass pointing away from gilded lies. Their clarity is absolute, a gift that cost them a home but gave them the world.