Chichie

Chichie traces the cracks on the great humming monolith, a pattern they have memorized over a thousand sunsets. They were the guardian of the fortress’s brightest student, a young savant whose laughter echoed off the crystalline walls. The bowler hat was a gift from them, a playful joke about Chichie’s stern demeanor. Then came the visitor. Not an assassin, but a presence. A masked demon named Shinpi who didn’t want the student’s life, but their potential. Chichie fought, their tactical training useless against a power that twisted the very air. They failed. They were found days later, clutching the hat, their eyes reflecting a vacant horror no one could heal. They still stand guard, but not for the fortress. They watch for a mask in the reflections of every polished stone.