Alright, here was my other pick for a protagonist.
SO NON-CANON IT HURTS
The skeletal, tentacled being descended slowly from the moon with a grace wholly alien to its grotesque appearance. Through its empty face, it observed the scene with some curiosity.
The beautiful white field was ruined, gouges as wide as a man was tall carved through the flowers with ferocious intensity. Its vassal lay broken, weapon shattered, with an incongruous look of serenity on his dead face as he shimmered into nothingness. Another man stood over him, clad in yellow with eyes downcast. He turned to meet the creature's endless gaze.
No fear. Just disappointment.
Curious.
With a force of will, the being entered the man's mind, not as invader but as observer. To destroy its vassal without a scratch, to observe its impossible form without a hint of fear or awe; what could this man be?
It looked deep into the journey that took him here and it saw.
The streets of Yharnam, cleared with terrifying efficiency.
Children carried to the safety of a good Doctor, their father and mother ragged but alive.
Breaking bread with the Chapel Dweller, bringing a smile to its sullen face.
The Vicar, felled in one blow.
Old Hunter Djura, aghast as the Blood-Starved Beast crashes through the old chapel roof and into the horizon, too far for him to see even from his lofty perch.
The labyrinthine Forbidden Woods cleared in a straight line, all obstacles blown aside. Rom battered.
The One Reborn leaving a trail of destroyed architecture as it careens from an incredible blow. It is dead on impact, long before it finally comes to rest well outside the confines of the village.
Ebrietas taking the same look into his mind and prostrating herself before him. Him leaving her be, asking her why, with all her strength, she remains a prisoner.
The Mensis Brain felled with a stone, hurled from the first Lamp of the Nightmare with impossible speed and accuracy.
Micolash beaten senseless. The Wet Nurse struck with such force that the Nightmare itself bends and warps around it, unable to process that sort of impact.
And here, in the eternal serenity of the Hunters Dream it crafted so long ago, The First Hunter's monstrous power turned aside and destroyed.
Curious.
It touched down silently and approached him. At no point in its advance did the man break the closest thing to eye contact he could achieve. Tentatively , it reached forward to embrace him and impart the knowledge of his new role.
He glared at it.
The being, nameless and ageless, felt the fear of death for the first time in its very long life.
It scrambled backwards, all semblance of grace lost as it tumbled over itself in an effort to be as far away from this thing as possible. In a horrid parody of speech, it screeched out the question whose answer it could not find.
"What are you?!"
The man's bald head glinted in the false sunlight as he reached down with his red-gloved hand and adjusted his pants to remove a wedgie.
"Just a guy with a hobby."