A Doman woman in red and black samurai armor kneels in silence before a pair of katana displayed on a stand. She sits alone on a crimson rug in a quiet, ornate room, flanked by lacquered couches. Her head is bowed, hands resting in her lap, as if in mourning or reflection.
They called her the Last Petal of Doma. A blade drawn too late to save the past, now wielded to protect the future. Once samurai, now shield and sage, Kanna Tokitsune walks with silence, not sorrow. Her oath was never broken, it was repurposed.
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