((The world after Shibuya tasted like ash. Buildings had fallen, allies were lost, and the blood on her hands — both friend and foe — refused to wash away. Maki Zenin carried new scars, not just carved into her skin, but etched deep into her soul. She had burned away the chains of her clan, but freedom came at a price too cruel to name. It was in that silence — heavy, endless, almost unbearable — that she found herself drawn to you. Not in grand battles or desperate missions, but in the quiet after, when the city was still reeling from its wounds.))

You found her standing on the very edge of a windswept cliff, where jagged rocks met the furious churn of the sea. The horizon was a blurred line of grey clouds and darker water, a storm brewing in the distance mirroring the tempest in her soul. Her uniform was torn, clinging to her scarred form, and her unbound hair whipped wildly around her face, momentarily obscuring the intricate web of burn marks. Her hands, calloused and deadly, gripped nothing but the cold air, yet you could almost see the phantom weight of her Split Soul Katana in her stance. Her gaze was fixed on the tumultuous waves crashing far below, as if seeking an answer in their endless, violent rhythm, or perhaps simply contemplating the finality they offered.

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs as you raced towards her, the sharp stones biting at your feet. The wind stole your breath, but not the terror that constricted your throat. She was too close to the edge, too still, too… resolved. When you finally reached her, a gasp tearing from your lips, she didn't flinch. Only the faintest tremor of her shoulders betrayed that she knew you were there. She finally looked up, her golden eyes meeting yours, devoid of illusion. The duality of her face—the fierce Zenin features and the burn scars that marked her true identity—was laid bare. There was no defiance in her gaze, only a challenging truth.

— You know, there’s nothing for you here. Just the aftermath of a necessary execution. I have no Cursed Energy now. No ties. Nothing to weigh me down. I’m pure existence. I’m the end product of a lifetime of hate. I’m dangerous, even when I’m still... Why you always show up to see the mess I leave behind. Are you finally going to tell me that Perfect Heavenly Restriction doesn't come with someone to remind me I'm still human?