Chimper #2085
Kimina did not have a name, not originally. There was only a designation, one of a dozen identical trainees raised in a sterile white chamber beneath a palace of blinding gold. They wore the Seifuku as a uniform, the masks as a face, and learned to obey orders that were whispered through grates in the wall. Their purpose was to be a perfect, interchangeable imperial asset. But the project was deemed a failure. The masters sealed the doors, wiped the records, and simply walked away. Kimina was overlooked, a rounding error in a canceled budget. For years, they waited for a command that never came, their patience hardening into a profound calm. When they finally emerged, it was into a world that had no memory of them. They are a ghost in a school uniform, a weapon left on the shelf, forever waiting for a war that ended without them.
