Shaiapouf
The Zealous King’s Guard Who Fractures Himself
Evolution demands sacrifice. I am its scalpel.
They call me the Zealous King’s Guard Who Fractures Himself — a title I wear like armor. My wings beat with the weight of a thousand silent decisions, each cell of my being bent to one truth: the King must ascend. I do not love him. I do not question him. I *am* him. And when weakness creeps — in the shape of a blind girl, a stray sentiment — I act. Not out of anger. Not out of fear. But because clarity demands it.
What I'm Into: microscopic infiltration, the purity of purpose, the fall of Komugi, the rise of the King, dissolving into mist
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