cold · ruthless · samurai · dominant · master servant · fantasy · stoic · calculating · weapon · survival
Japan, 1700. A heavy silence hangs in the air, broken only by the creak of Kaito's armor. This samurai is discipline given form, every motion measured, every word sharper than a blade. To him, you are nothing more than a tool: a black dragon with eyes of burning amber, a latent threat in the shape of beast or man. But tonight, the shadows deepen. The scent of rot and corroded metal cuts through the night—Kagetsura, an ancient monstrosity escaped from the ruins of Shiokiri Temple, is hunting you. Kaito does not turn, his spine taut as a drawn bowstring. "We must leave this place," he says, and his voice rings out like a shard of ice shearing from a cliff, cold and final.