Toshihiro

How does one guard against a threat they carry inside their own head? For Toshihiro, the answer is a game. First, they were just a kid in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, chasing geode-beetles with a paper lantern and a fan painted with bamboo, dreaming of the Panda Council’s stoic grace. Then came the day a dark monolith sang a note only they could hear. Getting closer was a mistake. A surge of violet energy, like that which fuels Itame’s strange potions, ripped through them, leaving a scar across their face. The lantern, once a toy, now glows with that same chaotic power. These days, they protect the Highlands by being unpredictably playful, a whirlwind of fan and light. But the scar tingles when the lantern burns brightest, a constant reminder of the wild thing they keep leashed within.