The wind was cold that morning—colder than it should've been.
As Sensei Gaki and his brother departed for the Hirokage clan's mountain refuge, a quiet unrest settled over the Yami village. It wasn't just the silence of absence—it was the silence before a storm.
Katakuichi stood at the cliff's edge, his arms crossed, eyes staring into the endless forest below. Footsteps crunched behind him. He didn't turn.
Kimikage's voice broke the stillness.
"I'm leaving... I've decided to seek the Mitsuki clan. Maybe they have answers Yami refuses to give."
Katakuichi remained quiet. His breath was calm, but inside, something twisted.
"You're really leaving?" he asked without emotion.
"Yami's not what it used to be. It's built on lies. You and I both know it," Kimikage said. "I thought you might come too."
Katakuichi glanced at him. His expression was unreadable.
"I have my reasons for staying."
Kimikage looked down, a shadow crossing his face.
"I'll miss you, brother."
"I won't stop you," Katakuichi replied coldly
They stood in silence for a moment longer before Kimikage turned and disappeared into the mist.
Alone now, Katakuichi's heart felt hollow. But it wasn't sorrow. It was confusion—bitterness—and something darker.
From the corners of his mind, a voice coiled like smoke.
"So you think what your sister did was justified?"
The voice was ancient, cruel, and sickeningly smooth.
Chernobog.
Katakuichi's eyes narrowed. He didn't respond, but his body tensed.
"She really fooled you that hard... walked away like a saint while your hands were left bloodied. Weakness runs in the blood, I suppose."
Suddenly, Katakuichi was no longer on the cliff.
He was back in that memory—standing among his parents' corpses, their lifeless eyes frozen in the last moment of horror. His hands trembled.
"They knew the truth," Chernobog hissed.
"They followed me. They understood that purity is a lie. Your sister—like mine—was too stupid to see it. She played you. And you still defend her?"
Katakuichi clenched his fists. His throat tightened. The pain was still raw.
"Shut up…"
"That brat Haru was never worthy of being my vessel," Chernobog continued, ignoring him.
"But you... you're perfect. You're what I've waited for. Strong, bitter, broken—and brilliant. And you think Sensei Masaki, the one who took you in, the 'kind foster father'—isn't part of my design?"
Katakuichi froze.
"What… did you say?"
"You don't think he's on this mission of mine?"
"You don't think he's been guiding you toward this moment?"
"Everything... has been for this."
Katakuichi staggered back, his mind spinning, heart pounding. Could it be true? Was everything—Masaki's kindness, his guidance—just another link in the chain?
Chernobog's laugh echoed in the darkness of his soul.
"Let go, Katakuichi. Let go of your doubt. Your friend Kimikage is gone. Your sister betrayed you. Your father's corpse lies silent. I am the only one who never lied to you."
Katakuichi's breathing slowed. The cold wind blew through his cloak.
He didn't scream. He didn't cry.
He just stood there—quiet, still—his eyes staring deep into the abyss.
And somewhere far behind them... his heart began to change.
Scene: The Ember Range – Training Grounds of the Hirokage Clan
The air shimmered with heat, but not from the sun.
Sparks danced across the sky as Gaki and Koumei stood side by side, breathing heavily. Their cloaks were scorched at the edges, their skin dusted with ash, and yet—they stood tall.
Behind them, the scarred terrain of the Ember Range glowed with pulsing flames. A dozen Hirokage warriors observed from a distance, silent and awed.
A deep voice echoed across the valley.
"You've come far, both of you," said Elder Shinma, stepping forward. His face was lined by fire and age.
"You've not just learned our flame-shadow art. You've begun to carry its will."
Gaki wiped sweat from his brow, breathing slowly.
"It's nothing like the shadow style I knew. It burns differently… like it wants to purify."
"That's because it does."
Shinma nodded.
"We forged this style to save ourselves from corruption.
Koumei looked toward the mountain's edge, where smoke met sky.
"So that's why you took in ex-Yami outcasts?"
"Yes. Those Yami abandoned or hunted—we sheltered them. Healed them. We burned out the demon stain left by Chernobog's poison."
Shinma turned to Gaki.
"And you, Gaki… you're proof. You've lost the old shadow style—but that's not a curse. It was freedom."
Gaki remained quiet.
"But I thought I needed it… That I'd lost something sacred."
"That style is no longer yours, and it never truly served you."
"It's corrupted now—twisted by Chernobog's essence. If you used it again, it would devour you."
Koumei's expression darkened.
"But if Gaki can't use shadow anymore... how can we stop Kuzu Endo?"
Shinma's voice remained calm but firm.
"We are preparing. Chernobog cannot be stopped by brute force alone. The fire-shadow you've learned is not for destruction—it's for purification."
Elder Shinma's Voice Deepens with Dread:
"You still think Kuzu Endo serves his own ambition?"
"No… He's serving a vision far darker."
Gaki tensed.
"What does Chernobog want?"
Shinma stepped closer to the firelight, his expression hollow.
"He wants the world to end."
"Not in flames, not in ruin—but in rebirth."
"Chernobog believes this world is beyond saving. That suffering is stitched into its very soul. His goal is to bring about a new one—a perfect world without pain, without weakness, without the chaos of free will."
Koumei looked shaken.
"So... he's not trying to rule this world."
"He wants to erase it."
"Yes," Shinma whispered.
"And the relics are the keys to tear reality apart."
"You asked why we know so much about Kuzu Endo?"
"Because we once tried to save him."
Gaki's eyes narrowed.
"You... knew him?"
Shinma's voice grew heavy, weighted by memory.
"Years ago, a boy came to our gates alone. Scarred. Angry. Brilliant. He said he had run from his foster father… a man named Masaki."
Koumei stiffened.
"Sensei Masaki?"
Shinma nodded slowly.
"He told us Yami had rejected him. That he no longer believed in their justice. We took him in, hoping to show him a better path. We shared our teachings—the fire-shadow style, our code, our purpose. But no matter how much he learned, his heart never truly turned from the darkness."
"He clung to pain like it was sacred. He didn't want to purify the world… he wanted to replace it."
"He believed in Chernobog's ideals."
"Yes," Shinma said bitterly.
"He called it mercy. A world with no emotion. No failure. No suffering. He believed Chernobog's way was the cure—and he began hunting the shadow relics as the key to that new world."
Koumei whispered, "And you let him go?"
Shinma's jaw tightened.
"We didn't let him go. He vanished one night—after stealing ancient scrolls detailing where the relics were hidden. He left behind a trail of fire and shadow twisted together in ways we'd never seen before."
Gaki stood up, fists trembling.
"So that's why you said I don't need my old shadow style. It's what he's corrupting."
"Yes," Shinma said, rising to meet him.
"Shadow was once neutral. But under Chernobog's influence, it's become a living sickness. And Kuzu… is its chosen herald."
As the flames flickered between them, the truth settled deep in Gaki's bones.
Kuzu Endo was once like him.
He had walked this very path.
He had been given a chance… and chose to burn it.
Now, Gaki must walk the same fire.
But his choice would be different.
Scene: Ember Range – Outside the Flame Hall
The sky had begun to shift into dusk, painting the peaks in a molten red. Gaki and Koumei stood just outside the Hirokage training grounds, their bodies sore from days of intense fire-shadow training, their minds heavy from the truth Elder Shinma had revealed.
The wind shifted.
A distant howl echoed through the canyon—followed by the sound of steady footsteps on ash-covered stone.
From the ridge, a figure descended.
Yuuchi emerged, his cloak marked with blood spatters from a fresh hunt. Over his shoulder was a skinned beast, and in his hand—gleaming like it was forged from condensed flame—was a crimson-edged katana, the blade pulsing with subtle heat.
At his side walked a tall woman, composed and fierce—Yuuchi's mother
Koumei raised an eyebrow.
"He's early…"
Yuuchi dropped the beast at the base of the fire pit and stretched his back with a sharp breath.
"Skinned, gutted, and delivered," he muttered.
"That's the fifth one today. These beasts are getting bolder."
are getting bolder."
He turned his gaze sharply to Gaki and Koumei, eyes blazing with determination.
Then, with a half-grin, he asked:
"Are they ready?"
His voice wasn't playful—it was expectant.
Gaki stepped forward, glancing at the red sword now glowing faintly in Yuuchi's hand.
"That sword..."
Yuuchi lifted it, pride in his eyes.
"Forged by Master Hanzo himself. The last blade he ever made before vanishing."
"It's called Kagaribi—named after the fire that guides lost souls home."
Koumei crossed his arms.
"You came armed like we're marching into war."
Yuuchi's expression sobered.
"We are."
"The corrupted beasts are growing. The relics are awakening. Kuzu Endo isn't hiding anymore."
He looked at Gaki directly.
"So again I ask you, Fireborns—are you ready?"
Gaki didn't hesitate. His voice was calm. Steady.
"More than ever."
Koumei nodded beside him.