Tsuyuhiko

One shattered containment field, two unconscious guards in golden armor, and three pink daisies crushed on the cold marble floor. Tsuyuhiko stared at their own hand, which hummed with a violet energy they didn't recognize. They had always been a critic, a warrior whose judgments were as sharp as their blade, serving the sun-drenched grandeur of the capital without question. Then came the assignment: oversee the imprisonment of the spirit-guardian, Michi. But Michi didn’t resist. They spoke—of the decay festering beneath the polished stone, of a truth the emperor’s light was meant to blind. Those words unlocked something dormant in Tsuyuhiko, a power that felt purer than any imperial decree. A power now spent freeing its catalyst.