Akuma

No accessory. Maximum presence. The Shirtless Runt fighters decided that bare skin is its own kind of armor — visible, deliberate, impossible to mistake.

Between midday and dusk. The Orange Afternoon fighters are in the middle of something — not finished, not starting, exactly where they need to be.

Every cracked card. White is the beginner's belt, and torn is how the crack left it, border and all: a White card is never printed. A repair earns Blue.

'Akuma' means devil, a name he didn't choose. The survivors needed a word bigger than soldier for what he did on the field, and it stuck.

Still learning. The Student Gi fighters are the most dangerous in the Dojo — they have no habits yet, no fixed patterns, no ceiling.

Clear eyes. No filter. The unshielded gaze that sees things as they are — not as they're presented or sold.

Floor-mat helmet. The Tatami Kabuto fighters made armor from the training floor itself — they carry the place they trained in wherever they go.

The turned. 419 fighters who crossed into the demon form — hungrier, harder, and unmistakable on sight. The Dojo's second race, and its darker half.

Snapped, but still swung. The Broken Naginata fighters lost half the reach and none of the conviction — they simply stand closer now.