Nezuko

The slick, cold feel of rain on marble used to be a comfort. Nezuko once stood as a ceremonial guardian in a palace of blinding gold spires, where their only duty was grace. Wielding a Panda Fan, they performed intricate katas for visiting dignitaries, a living symbol of the empire's tranquil power. They believed in the white marble and the warm sunlight that masked the rot within. But that was before the ambush in the Hall of Mirrors. Left with a permanent scar and a murdered charge, Nezuko saw the truth. These days, they prefer the rain. It washes the city clean and hides their movements as they hunt the conspirators. The fan is no longer for show; its ribs are steel, its edge is sharp.