Sanzaburou

Three days after arriving in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, Sanzaburou looked into a bowl of steaming ramen broth and saw not noodles, but a city in flames. They had come chasing rumors of a crystal that made soup taste of starlight, a carefree explorer known for a warm heart and an even warmer meal. But something in the air, perhaps a stray reflection from one of Horoguramu’s pools, had changed the recipe. Now, every shimmering surface offered a glimpse of what was to come—a broken treaty, a friend's betrayal, a coming storm. The friendly smile vanished behind a poker face, a shield against the questions in others’ eyes. They picked up their chopsticks, staring into the terrible vision. Who do you warn when you see everything falling apart?