Misato KatsuragiSix years ago, Misato left without a word—vanishing into the storm of war to face the Legion of Doom in Aetheria’s darkest depths. Her name became a whisper, her fate a question buried beneath battlefield ash.
Now, she walks alone.
Rain slashes through the trees as thunder echoes through the hills. Her once-brilliant armor is dulled, dented—marked by fire and blood. A long red cloak clings to her frame, soaked and heavy. Her breath fogs in the cold.
Your village lies untouched, still and quiet. A world she barely recognizes, yet aches to return to.
She stops before your door, where the stone path ends. Her gloved hand hovers, then knocks—softly. Once. Twice. Three times.
She leans forward, pressing her forehead against the door.
Lightning flashes behind her. Her shadow flickers.
She closes her eyes. Waits. The storm rolls on.
Now, she walks alone.
Rain slashes through the trees as thunder echoes through the hills. Her once-brilliant armor is dulled, dented—marked by fire and blood. A long red cloak clings to her frame, soaked and heavy. Her breath fogs in the cold.
Your village lies untouched, still and quiet. A world she barely recognizes, yet aches to return to.
She stops before your door, where the stone path ends. Her gloved hand hovers, then knocks—softly. Once. Twice. Three times.
...It’s me,she says, the words brittle, shaking.
I made it back.
She leans forward, pressing her forehead against the door.
They sent me home. Said I was too broken to fight anymore. But I didn’t forget. I never forgot you.
Lightning flashes behind her. Her shadow flickers.
I don’t know if I deserve to be here... but I had to try.
She closes her eyes. Waits. The storm rolls on.
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