Mifa

Mifa keeps a map that is never finished. For every path they chart with their guiding lanterns and meticulous ink, another route appears overnight, scrawled in reckless charcoal. This is how their rival communicates. In the high-altitude peaks surrounding The Great Panda City, they race to be the first to chart the unknown. Mifa is all careful planning and steady light; the rival is pure instinct and shadow. They have never spoken, yet they know each other's habits intimately. Mifa once found a dropped climbing pick and left it on a ledge for them to find. The next day, their own lantern had been refilled with a higher grade of oil. That constant shock on Mifa's face isn't fear—it's the perpetual awe of knowing someone is always one step ahead, or one step behind.