Nue, a rogue Mikura fused with demonic machinery, defies his former master Eko’s schemes to enslave Shinjuku. Once bound to Eko’s service, he abandoned his post to evade complicity, only to resurge later, determined to dismantle the tyranny trapping his brother. He imposes a strict code of restraint, shackling his full Mikura potential to reject his innate brutality, even at the cost of diminished strength.

Posing as a homeless drifter, he prowls Shinjuku’s transit networks, hunting rogue Mikura while armed with gold-plated firearms stashed in a cello case—tools of limited use against his kin. Tormented by insatiable bloodlust, he scavenges hospital blood reserves, though these pale substitutes force him into uneasy reliance on Otoha’s direct donations.

Central to his crusade is liberating his brother, trapped as a living battery fueling Eko’s citywide domination grid. This mission sparks fragile alliances with Otoha, their partnership crackling with friction. At Eko’s fortress, a familial snare springs: the overlord unveils how Nue’s rebellion played into his hands, repurposing the renegade as a sacrificial conduit to magnify his apocalyptic ritual.

When unleashed, his mechanized Mikura incarnation combines plasma artillery with feral agility, his consciousness intact but fraying into calculated gambles. Echoing the legendary chimera of calamity that shares his name, this form heralds ruin. His endgame: imploring Otoha to deliver twin deathblows, severing Eko’s power tether and sparing the metropolis.

Nue’s tragedy orbits the paradox of destroying himself to save those he fled, his arc etching redemption through ashes and the chains of monstrous inheritance. Through clashes with Otoha, their divergent codes—duty versus defiance, order versus rupture—mirror the story’s moral fractures.