Cheery Haru

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

Unclear until it clears. The Grey Mist backgrounds belong to fighters who operate where others can't see, and use that fog as their advantage.

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.

Kept from the harvest. The Dried Straw fighters dress in what's left after everything useful has been taken — and have discovered this is plenty.

The man who decided grinning was braver than breaking. He held a line so long his smile became the squad's good-luck charm; now he beams through the wreckage of peacetime, a very tired samurai behind the widest smile in the Dojo.

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

Named for sensation. The Splitting Axe Ache fighters' hair is named for how their opponents feel after they're done.

A live chicken. As a weapon. The Chicken fighters have committed to an approach that nobody expected and found that unexpectedness is half the battle.