Morisaburou

Morisaburou remembered the hum of the forbidden text, a low thrum that vibrated through their teeth as they first read it. Now, huddled in a gilded alleyway of The Teikodian Empire, that same energy coursed through the arrow they held. The Empire had declared such power heresy, an unforgivable stain. But the Empire's pristine doctrines had shattered against the chaos brought by Karasu. Morisaburou had watched the feathered warlord’s servants tear through their unit, and in that moment, the official training manuals felt like children’s stories. They found the scroll in a hidden archive, a dark answer to a desperate question. The Green Bow Uniform they still wore was a lie, a ghost of the trainee they used to be. The bucket hat just hid their eyes from the sun—and from the Imperial patrols. They drew the bowstring, the arrow glowing with a light that was neither holy nor sane.