Pareka

On the day their scouting party was ambushed by Soul Chasers, Pareka was the one everyone wrote off. They were quiet and wore a commander's helm they had found in the skeletal wreckage of a forgotten battle. But as black-and-white flame consumed the crimson sky, something inside them broke open. They thought of the stories of Katana, whose greatness was forged, not given. That single thought was the flint-strike. The nebula pattern on Pareka's armor began to glow, pulling the very shadows of The Underworld into tangible shapes that lashed out at their enemies. They didn't win a war that day, but they walked out of the slaughter alone, the helm now feeling less like a trophy and more like a prophecy.