Kurono

The taste of sulfur and the constant grit of ash are how Kurono remembers they still exist. They came to The Underworld when they were still warm-blooded, a geomancer obsessed with the realm’s impossible geology. They believed the rocks beneath the crimson sky held secrets older than any chronicle. This curiosity led them into the hunting grounds of the Soul Chasers. As black-and-white flame consumed them, Kurono’s final act was to reach for the land itself. It answered. They were pulled back, reassembled by the very strata they came to study, their spirit anchored by a core of living stone. The memories are faint, but the academic hunger has twisted into something primal and aggressive. Their azure visor just helps them see the deep pulse of the earth—the only pulse they feel anymore.