Kanrokurou

Kanrokurou traced the outline of a skeletal beast with their katana's tip, the headset crackling with a familiar voice. "Anything interesting, or just more rocks?" The voice was meant to be their handler, their mission coordinator for this sweep of The Dragon Wastelands. But somewhere between mapping ghost dragon illusions and logging mineral deposits for Mekanikku, the daily check-ins had softened. They became less about reports and more about trading stories, describing the impossible sunsets, and making absurd bets on how long their ration packs would last. Kanrokurou smiled, the expression hidden by the bubble helm. "Found a rock that looks like you," they transmitted back, enjoying the brief, indignant silence. The mission was vital, but the reason they endured the howling winds was the quiet laugh that followed their joke, a signal clearer than any beacon.