SUN DOGS

This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero:

(Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.)
"Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey."

...But like that kind of hero.

His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any.

Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him.

But right now? He is hunting warriors.

And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers."

See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.