Hikumi

Hikumi vaulted over a shimmering quartz outcrop, the hum of a plasma rifle scorching the air where their head had just been. This had been their life for weeks, a frantic tour of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria with the mercenary Fuhai in hot pursuit. The bounty wasn't on Hikumi's head; it was on their conscience. It turned out that Fuhai, the feared entity born from war, had a deep, sentimental attachment to a single ceramic teacup. A teacup Hikumi had accidentally knocked off a table at a roadside inn. Now, the wanderer with the simple bowlcut and a glorified walking pole was the sole focus of a relentless, military-grade manhunt over an act of clumsiness. Their Chimpborg eyes, once used to chart star-patterns in the beautiful sunsets, were now exclusively used to spot Fuhai's approach. Their perpetually shocked expression wasn't a personality trait; it was a permanent state of being.