Every night, Tian-Gui could feel the arm he lost, the pain from the phantom limb that had been pulverized in his clash against the Thremont patriarch. It kept him awake, a constant reminder of the limits of his durability, a limit that he had finally met, after overcoming the ferocity of the Abyssals’ blasts and the roar of the battleships’ cannons. But it didn’t matter.

The Shield that Bore the Sun would bear all his scars with pride.

And while Runa and Kyouko continued their education, while Jin-Sun became reclusive and Iphie became exclusive, Tian-Gui had continued to work, growing more and more accustomed to doing what he did, except without a left arm. Flamestone constructions gave him the limb he needed when he fought, but for interviews, from press conferences that he attended alongside the others to one-on-one conversations with talk show hosts, he simply tied the sleeve down for his leftside stump and continued on as normal. No tricks, no gimmicks, no cybernetic gadgets to play with, no matter how many times Anfisa enticed him with gears that would augment his supernatural capabilities. It was a message, perhaps. Even with one arm missing, he was sufficient to safeguard Shanhu.

Not, of course, that there was no change at all.

Jin-Sun, the [i]other[/i] armored combatant in the Final Five, would have noticed the transformation first, if only because Tian-Gui had sought him out for a couple of sparring sessions. Gone were the lion-headed pauldrons and the draconic headpiece; the Flamestone vestments that he clad himself with became sleeker and more angular, pushing for greater mobility and flexibility. More lessons learned versus the Thremonts: when he needed added durability, his ability to sense killing intent gave him more than enough time to build up Flamestone. When he didn’t need it, he could opt for his more mobile form, which soon became the standard on most missions.

Some internet denizens dubbed it ‘Rider Form’, compared to the ‘Mecha Form’ of the previous era. Others lamented that Tian-Gui had gone from gigachad to soycuck. The man himself didn’t care. Added mobility gave him more options.

And of course, that same mobility was what got him to the newly-constructed Fort Five on time to not keep the others waiting.

A draft of cold air blasted into the apartments as Tian-Gui entered from the patio, his armor dissolving into rust as he stepped in. The other members, sans Kyouko, were already present, and he smiled at some familiar faces. [b]“Sorry for my lateness; had to deal with a couple incidents on my way here,”[/b] the blue-eyed man said. [b]“Jin-Sun, Runa, hope y’all enjoyed what downtime you’ve got. And Iphie! Swear I see you more from the screens than in-person these days.”[/b] He patted John on the back as he passed by as well, before grabbing a pitcher of tea from the open-concept kitchen and pouring it out for the others. [b]“Whatcha got for us, my guy?”[/b]

Turns out, a whole lotta stuff that Tian-Gui really didn’t have an opinion on. The armorer sounded useful for Jin-Sun and Iphie, the doctor would be a  cool dude to have on their side if dealing with some special freak disease that’s messing up the general populace, and the bureaucrat was the sorta individual who’d be shouldering all the political headaches that another member of the Final Five’s support team would’ve. Ultimately though? Tian-Gui didn’t use weapons, he recovered from most wounds with a long rest, and he generally ended up chest-first through red tape like a sprinter. It wasn’t all too interesting for him, so instead, he simply co-oped Runa’s enthusiasm instead.

[b]“Yeah, how’s the leads looking, John? Anything big enough that’d require the whole squad to get together again?”[/b]