<lora:Neurographic Ink - 2:1.0> <lora:Alcoholic Inks:1.0> <lora:Brushed Oils:1.0> <lora:Fluxtachrome dreams:1.0> Red Stormtrooper with katan...

The stormtrooper stood alone, katana humming with stolen energy. No blaster, just steel. His white armor, once pristine, now dripped crimson from shoulder to boot, each plate a canvas of rebellion. He moved through the wreckage like a ghost of vengeance, slicing through betrayal and command alike. The Empire had trained him to obey; the blade had taught him to choose. Under twin suns, he carved his own legend, silent, swift, and soaked in consequence. They called him Zan-Kurai, the rogue enforcer. But to those who survived his path, he was simply the red shadow, honor wrapped in bloodstained porcelain.