Chishino

The other refugees gathered by Shokei-moji claim Chishino’s story is written on their head: a simple cook who slipped and was exiled for the mess. They point to the spilt ramen and their perpetually shocked eyes as proof of a life defined by accidents. But those who watch closely see a different tale. They see how Chishino moves through the camp at night, silent as a shadow, instincts honed far from any kitchen in the Teikodian Empire. They were found near the capital’s border, frantic and reeking of broth, and Shokei-moji offered sanctuary without demanding a past. The truth is, the spill didn’t happen in a dining hall. It happened somewhere cold and metallic, beneath the palace's golden spires. What looks like clumsiness might just be the cover for the most consequential mistake ever made in those secret labs.