The year was 2250 N.C.
An age where cities pierced the clouds, armies wielded weapons of plasma and steel, and the scars of countless wars were carved into the face of the earth.
Yet for Kimura Takatou, twenty-one years old and newly discharged from service, life had narrowed to something simple.
He was no longer buried in trenches, surrounded by the screams of artillery and the shriek of mechs tearing through flesh and metal.
Instead, he was home.
A small, weather-worn house stood at the edge of the urban district—modest, quiet, and unremarkable to the world. To him, it was everything.
Inside waited the only two people that mattered.
Saki, his wife.
And Airi, their daughter.
The day began like so many others—peaceful.
Saki's laughter drifted through the kitchen, soft and melodic, as she prepared a pot of stew.
The scent of simmering broth filled the air.
Her black hair was tied into a loose braid, a habit left over from her days working at the city canteen, though a few strands escaped to frame her face.
She hummed to herself beneath the faint glow of the artificial skylight, unaware of how radiant she looked.
On the floor, Airi giggled as she balanced her small wooden horse. She was five years old, with her mother's eyes and her father's stubborn chin.
She looked up as Kimura stepped through the doorway, boots still dusty from his work shift.
"Papa!" Airi cried, scrambling to her feet and wrapping herself around his leg.
Kimura bent down and scooped her into his arms. She was warm, her tiny fingers clutching at his collar. He kissed her forehead, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair.
For a moment, the weight of the world slipped away.
"You're late again," Saki teased from the kitchen. "If I didn't know better, I'd say the army still had you chained."
"I'm free now," Kimura said with a tired grin. "Free enough to come home to my queen and princess."
Saki rolled her eyes, though her lips curved into a smile.
Airi giggled.
"Papa," she asked suddenly, her voice small, "will you always protect us? Even if the bad men come?"
Kimura paused.
He looked into her wide, trusting eyes, and something heavier than any battlefield duty settled in his chest. He set her down gently and knelt to meet her gaze.
"Always," he said firmly. "Even if the whole world turns against us, I'll never let harm touch you or Mama."
Saki watched them, her smile softening—yet somewhere deep inside, a chill ran through her.
That promise would be broken before the night ended.
It began with footsteps.
Heavy, iron-plated boots crushed the gravel outside their home. At first, Kimura thought it was a passing patrol. But the rhythm grew louder… steadier… deliberate.
The door rattled as a fist slammed against it.
Then a voice—deep, commanding—cut through the air.
"Open up. By order of Lord Vanko."
The name struck like ice water.
Vanko.
The mercenary lord.
No soldier bound by code. No noble commander. A butcher clad in steel, ruling through fear and fire. Kimura had seen his banners once on the battlefield and prayed he never would again.
The door buckled under another blow.
Kimura rushed to Saki, lowering his voice. "Take Airi. Hide in the back. Don't come out until I say."
Saki's face drained of color. She nodded, clutching their daughter.
"Papa?" Airi asked, confused. "What's happening?"
"Nothing," Kimura lied, forcing a smile that hurt to wear. "Just stay with Mama."
The door exploded inward before he could say more.
Wood splintered. Dust filled the air. Half a dozen armed men poured inside—rifles slung over their shoulders, blades glinting.
And behind them stood Vanko.
He was taller than the rumors suggested. Blackened steel armor trimmed with crimson wrapped his frame, jagged scars etched across his chest. His grin was wide and vile, his eyes cold and predatory.
They locked onto Saki.
"There she is," Vanko murmured. "Even more beautiful than the rumors claimed."
Kimura stepped forward, fists clenched.
"You bastard. This is my home."
Vanko glanced at him lazily, as if acknowledging an insect.
"Ah, the soldier husband. I'll give you this—you kept her hidden well. But beauty like hers doesn't belong in shadows. It belongs to me."
"Over my dead body."
Kimura lunged.
---
He ripped a rifle from a mercenary's grip, smashing it into another man's jaw. Training took over. He spun, kicked, struck—breaking noses, shattering teeth, forcing three men back.
Then pain exploded at the back of his head.
Stars filled his vision. Shackles snapped around his wrists. His knees slammed into the floor as mercenaries pinned him down.
Saki screamed his name.
Airi cried.
Vanko crouched before him, gripping Kimura's chin with a gauntleted hand.
"You fought well," he said, amused. "But strength without power is just desperation. Now… watch."
Kimura strained against the cuffs, veins bulging, blood trickling down his wrists.
Vanko turned toward Saki.
"I didn't come for you, soldier. I came for her."
"No!" Kimura roared. "Don't touch her!"
Vanko ignored him, fingers brushing Saki's cheek. She recoiled, clutching Airi tighter.
Vanko seized her hair.
Saki screamed.
Kimura's world shattered.
"Please!" he begged, the word ripped from his soul. "Take me instead! Kill me! Just let them go!"
Vanko glanced back, amused.
"No. You'll live. Watching them suffer will break you far more than death."
Then Airi screamed.
"Papa! Help me!"
Kimura's head snapped up as his daughter was torn from Saki's arms. Her wooden horse clattered to the floor. Tiny hands reached for him, tears streaking her cheeks.
"Papa, please! I'm scared!"
They dragged her toward a cage.
Inside, mutated beasts snarled.
Chains rattled.
Jaws dripped with hunger.
Kimura's chest caved inward.
The beasts lunged.
Something inside him broke.
Creak!
Time slowed. Space warped. Cracks of light and shadow spiraled along his shackles.
The air bent inward as a void formed in his palm—a black sphere, small yet infinite, devouring sound itself.
The mercenaries stumbled back.
Even Vanko paused.
"So… you awaken."
Kimura's eyes glowed hollowly as the blackhole pulsed.
Vanko's grin returned.
"Throw him into Scaletrón City. Let his despair rot."
The rift swallowed him whole.
Kimura awoke among ruins.
Bones littered the ground. Shadows moved through the mist. The stench of death choked the air.
Every bone in his body screamed—but one thing remained unbroken.
His vow.
Dragging himself forward, blood smearing the earth, he whispered:
"Vanko…"
The void flickered in his palm.
"I'll give you despair… a thousandfold. Even if I tear time apart… even if the world burns to ash… I will make you suffer."
Scaletrón shuddered.
Thus began the tale of Kimura Takatou—
a soldier broken by despair, reborn in darkness,
destined to carve vengeance across time and space.