Chimper #338
When the last of their three guiding lanterns began to flicker from gold to a sickly violet, Tsuguri stopped. The air grew thin and cold, and the shadows in the ice cave twisted into grasping claws. This was the sign—the curse announcing its presence. They weren't born of flesh, but brewed in the under-labs of The Teikodian Empire, an unplanned twin to the potion master Itame. While Itame became a perfect conduit for otherworldly power, Tsuguri absorbed the cauldron's dregs: raw spite, bad luck, and an energy that devoured light. The scar on their face is a map of their escape, a reminder of the alchemical fire that bought their freedom. They now wander where others won't, the lanterns a gauge for their own misfortune. The flame died. Tsuguri drew a blade, squinting into the absolute black.
