Kemiko

Kemiko slammed their palms to the stone plaza, a wall of rock erupting just in time to shatter the blinding spear of light hurled by Kaunto-juba. Before that day, Kemiko’s geomancy was a source of delight in Waterfall City. They’d shape the plaza's stones into leaping fish for the children or carve temporary slides down the city's rocky stairs. They were known for their easy laughter, not their battle-ready stance. But when the self-proclaimed messiah arrived, promising an interstellar age at the cost of the city's will, something protective and ancient awoke in Kemiko. They moved on pure instinct. The tactical gear and mask they wear today were gifts from the city elders, a formal acknowledgment of a role they never sought. They still make the stone frogs jump, but now their gaze never strays far from the sky.