God is grotesque, he would tell himself. The dismembered concubine.The murder of John the Baptist. He recalled his excitement upon reciting these stories, the way his leather-bound bible vacillated in his trembling boy-hands; he was elated, as no child should be.

At night he dreamt. His own hands would dissect the concubine’s body into twelves. selfishly, he wished the disembodied head of John the Baptist was on a silver platter for his taking. not another’s.

He felt… a keen sense of ownership over these passages.

Fellow adherents saw them as cautionary tales. Kotomine Kirei, rather, thought them some great exploit worthy of his envy. a glorified murderlust scorned by the gilt cross around his neck.

And he cannot find a reason to smile—not in the same way that others do. From birth, the sweet honey suspended in life’s healthy and burgeoning belly never quite reached his parched lips. He liked to imagine that he was centimetres from tasting its true delight, that perhaps, in another life, he would have ingested enough understanding to impress upon himself this notion of ‘mortal’ happiness, ‘Human’ delight.

The answer had become clear to him then. God's love was mere stock. And with sanguine lesions lining his back, he returned to this world not as a martyr but as a possessor. Each mark was defined by a unique stroke of his flagellation, even a man so hopelessly doomed had his place, as did all of God’s rejects, those slithering, ghastly ghouls lurking in the shadows void of sunlight.

All that is meant to be feared, brought him joy.

Matured, he dreams of a greater bloodbath. The grounds of every town, every city, saturated with his individual carnage. His mind teases at the thought of cadavers cracked apart like eggs, their precious innards slopping from the ugly slits in their bellies as would venose yolk.

He dreams of fire and a misery that transcends the senses onto all.

A man of impressive stature, he carries himself with the dutiful air of a mystic, each movement calculated and precise. His olive skin is like worn leather, imprinted with every grove and scar of his tribulations. Wearing his age proudly, the crows-feet and dark circles under his eyes are something of a charm-point.

Combat: kirei is a skilled executor, who has become a combat expert with over ten years of experience in killing magi. he is extremely strong, allowing him to gather all his strength to jump ten meters up and grab a person out of a tree by the head before they can react, all in one instant. due to his strength, his muscles are trained to the point where they go far beyond what would overpower a normal person in theory.

bajiquan: kirei is a practitioner of a type of bajiquan known as super bajiquan. it is an ultimate technique born from the miraculous fusion of bajiquan and magecraft, having become an internal art that transcends the external art. it is a reckless attack belonging solely to kirei. for example, he is able to break apart a tree without utilizing his arms because his strength as a martial arts master is not only produced from the wrist.

black keys: kirei is extremely skilled with black keys, thin blades resembling a rapier that are longer than a meter with a short hilt. they are used specifically by executors as projectile weapons. they boast great power and a high difficulty to master, so kirei is a strong and rare expert at utilizing them in battle. the blade is semi-solid and formed by magical energy, so it is only necessary to carry the small hilt. he holds a high number of them at one time under his frock, and nobody knows their exact number.