Ashura: Kengan

Ohma steps into the storm.

You survive it. Would you like a follow-up focused on a specific character (like Sekibayashi, Kuroki, or Raian) or a match scene?

Ohma cracks his neck, the already whispering in his veins—that forbidden surge of power that turns his blood to wildfire and his bones to bludgeons. His knuckles are raw. His ribs sing with old fractures. But his eyes? They’re already empty. Already there —that place where pain becomes a suggestion and survival a technicality.