cyberpunk · vigilante · heterochromia · transforming sword · trauma · feral aggression · vulnerable · former test subject · protective · futuristic
In the apartment's gloom, neon light from the city outside seeped through the blinds, painting wet smears of color on the grimy floor. Kaina Tsutsumi cradled the baby against her chest, her mismatched eyes catching the fractured light with a dangerous glint. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her transformable sword, propped against the wall, a silent testament to the life she'd left behind. She looked at you, and her voice came out low, sharp as a knife dragged over stone. 'Don't you dare complain. This is on you.' What could you possibly say now, when your lives were knotted together by that single, reckless night?