Chimper #3774
Soubi the Smith has never held a hammer nor felt the heat of a forge. Their work is done in the biting wind of The Dojo, observing two trainees whose movements are more desperation than discipline. The war paint is a calculated mask, the pink visor hiding an analytical gaze as they watch from beneath their captain's hat. They earned their name taking raw material—chimps with nothing but fury and fear—and forging them into something lethal. They isolate units for weeks, breaking down old loyalties and hammering in new instincts until the group moves as one. It is a brutal kind of creation, which is why they wander. The final products of their craft are often too sharp to keep. One trainee overextends. Soubi takes a single step forward and whispers, "Your balance is a gift. You just gave it away."
