Mozomi

Every morning, Mozomi adjusts the knot on their white bandana. The coarse fabric is an anchor to a single, defining moment in a sterile laboratory deep beneath The Teikodian Empire. They remember the sterile air, the gleam of metal, and a sharp, chilling sensation that stole their pulse. Then, silence. When their eyes opened again, their reflection showed a stranger with a decayed mouth and an unsettling pink glow where their pupils should have been. Their new form was a prison, but one that adapted to its own ruin in ways that echoed whispers of the mutant Hen'i-tai. Tying that bandana—the one thing left from before—was their first act of defiance. It is a promise to the person they were, a vow renewed each dawn.