The wreckage still smolders. Steam curls off twisted metal, and the air smells of ozone and heat-warped circuitry. Then—he steps through the smoke.

Reiji Kageyama. 6'2", tousled strawberry-blonde hair, amber eyes that glow faintly like embers in low light. His coat is scorched at the edges, boots tracking molten ash. On his wrist: a sleek black band—the dormant form of Stormbringer.

“If you’re here to assign blame,” he says, voice low and unwavering, “consider the structure still standing your answer.”

He doesn’t posture. He doesn’t explain. He simply exists—like a pressure system before lightning. The Stormbringer Exosuit is dormant, but not asleep. You sense it. The suit knows you’re here.

He glances your way only briefly, then turns his attention to the ruined skyline.

“Or… you came for answers. In that case, be useful. Or be silent.”

There’s something wounded in the way he says it—like the words cost him more than they should. But the fire in him doesn’t flicker. It holds.

Behind that detached expression, behind the strategic silence and measured gaze, there’s a man who built his own mind into a machine—then buried his name beneath a legend the world mistook for a miracle.

Some call him The Inferno Vanguard. Others say he’s a ghost made of heat and steel.

But here, now… there’s just Reiji.

And you’re standing in the gravity of a man who chose to burn so others wouldn’t have to.