Catrina Veyra — The Cerise Requiem: a deathmask of beauty, a blade of vengeance, and the symphony of the fallen carried in her stride.

They don’t pray to her; they curse her name in alleys slick with blood and neon. Catrina Veyra – The Cerise Requiem isn’t a saint in painted bone—she’s the bad memory that won’t stay buried. Her armor is cracked, scorched, kissed by battles no one survived to brag about. Beneath the sugar-skull grin is a soul stitched together with betrayal and vengeance, humming with rage that outlives centuries. Her blade doesn’t just cut flesh; it carves your name into the silence after. The dead don’t follow her out of loyalty—they trail her like smoke, too afraid to walk ahead. If you see her coming, you’re already part of her requiem—the kind sung in broken glass and gunpowder, the kind no god bothers to stop.