Masora

The crunch of their boots on frozen ash is a sound many in The Underworld have learned to fear. To the Cult of Kaze, Masora is an impossibility—a creature of pure white surviving where only corruption thrives. They believe the azure visor filters out the despair of the crimson sky, a stolen piece of Overworld magic that makes them a target. The shambling undead see a phantom, a whisper of the unnatural snowfall that blankets the ice plains. They do not attack; they simply watch the ghost pass, uncertain if it is a memory or a premonition. Only Gutarou knows the truth. They see no ghost, no magical operative. They see the one who followed them into this hell, whose visor hides not power, but how tired their eyes have become.