Sukeshirou

Sukeshirou ran a soft cloth over the monolith’s surface, chasing the last streak of dust from its iridescent face. The General Suit they still wore felt stiff, a relic from their time serving under Toyotomi’s unified legions, where every chimp polished their armor with the same robotic precision. There were no commands here, only the low hum of magic from the fortress’s spinning rocks and the slow descent of the sun. They had been promised a new world order, a grand purpose built on assimilation. But they found more meaning in this simple, quiet duty: ensuring the sacred stones caught the last rays of light perfectly. Wiping their brow, they adjusted their white bandana, a knot they tied themself. A small grin appeared as the sunset burst through the crystal, painting the highlands in fire and amethyst.