The eerie battlefield fades, and the scene transitions smoothly to Dark's room. He lies on his bed, scrolling through his phone. Suddenly, he stumbles upon a photo of himself, Tier, and Leona. In the background, a barely visible hooded figure catches his eye, their face obscured but clearly looking directly at the camera. Dark's heart skips a beat, his breathing quickens, and he sits up abruptly, eyes wide with realization.
Dark: What the hell...
He rushes downstairs, each step echoing with urgency, and throws his phone to Tier, who catches it with a look of confusion.
Tier looks down at the phone, his brows furrowing as he examines the photo closely. His eyes widen as he notices the skull symbol on the hooded figure.
Tier: Hey, Dark... this person...
Dark, his anxiety palpable, takes a step closer.
Dark: What?
Tier looks up, his expression turning serious, the weight of the revelation clear on his face.
Tier: They weren't there when we took this photo. Look at the skull on their hood. That's the mark of the Assassin Empire.
Dark's eyes narrow, his mind racing with possibilities.
Dark: The Assassin Empire? What's that supposed to mean?
Tier's voice drops to a whisper, the gravity of his words evident.
Tier: They can transcend time and space with something called Half Step. If that person was looking at us, it means they're planning an assassination.
Dark feels a chill run down his spine, the implications sinking in.
Dark: But who? And why would they target us?
Tier's face grows grim, his tone somber.
Tier: There's only one person who knows about the Assassin Empire.
Dark, his patience wearing thin, demands an answer.
Dark: Who?
Tier hesitates, then sighs, the name heavy on his lips.
Tier: You're not going to like this... it's Sukojo.
Dark's thoughts whirl, disbelief etched across his features.
Dark: This has got to be a joke. Sukojo wouldn't even speak to us without a fight.
Just then, footsteps echo from the stairs. Dark and Tier turn to see Gilmuar approaching, his expression curious and slightly concerned.
Gilmuar: Did I just hear you mention Sukojo?
Tier nods, his gaze steady.
Tier: Yeah, he's the only one who can tell us about the Assassin Empire.
In a flash, Gilmuar's demeanor changes, and he grabs Tier by the shirt, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.
Gilmuar: What do you want from that bastard?
Dark, his aura flaring with power, crosses his arms. The spiritual pressure forces both Tier and Gilmuar to their knees, unable to resist the overwhelming force.
Dark: Silence, both of you. Give me the phone, Tier. I'll handle this myself.
Tier, struggling under the pressure, tries to protest.
Tier: But it's too dangerous!
Dark, his resolve unshaken, cuts him off.
Dark: I don't care.
Gilmuar, standing defiantly, refuses to back down.
Gilmuar: I'm going with you.
Dark shoots him a furious glance, his eyes burning with intensity, conveying unspoken fury. Gilmuar understands and steps back, as does Tier, recognizing the determination in Dark's gaze.
Dark turns, grabbing his cloak from a hook by the door, donning it with a dramatic flourish. He extends his right hand, fingers splayed, as if grasping something unseen, while his left hand moves to his shoulder in a menacing gesture. A small portal appears, through which he retrieves his Kyuketsu, a black, hollow katana. The portal closes as he holsters the weapon at his waist. The camera shifts upward, capturing the beautiful sky.
Dark: Transcending time and space, my ass.
The scene transitions abruptly from the bright sky to a dark, mysterious night. The sky is an ominous black, with clouds tinged red. The camera pans down to reveal Dark walking through an old village, once ruled by Sukojo. The village is now an ancient, decrepit place, filled with shadows and secrets. Dark's footsteps echo on the cobblestone streets, each step deliberate and cautious. He deliberately bumps into a random person, initiating a conversation.
Dark: Oh, hello there. Are you alright? I must have been blind for a moment, didn't see you due to how dark it is.
Dark chuckles softly, offering a hand to help the person to their feet. The person, an elderly man named Rendor, laughs warmly, taking Dark's hand.
Rendor: No, no, it's fine. I didn't see you either. Happens to the best of us.
Dark smiles, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Dark: That's quite funny.
Rendor's eyes light up with a spark of friendliness.
Rendor: Hey, would you like a drink? I've got some good stuff at my place.
Dark, shaking his head, responds with a polite decline.
Dark: Sorry, I don't drink. But a glass of water would be great.
Rendor, nodding in agreement, gestures for Dark to follow.
Rendor: Sure, mate. Follow me.
As they walk through the narrow, winding streets, Rendor chatters amiably, sharing bits of his life.
Rendor: I'm a father of four, married for 49 years. I'm 71 now. Quite old, aren't I?
Rendor laughs, a hearty sound that echoes through the quiet village.
Dark, nodding appreciatively, listens attentively.
Dark: Wow, that's quite the story.
Rendor: So, what about you? What's your story?
Dark hesitates, his thoughts conflicted, before offering a guarded response.
Dark: Well, it's... complicated.
As they arrive at Rendor's modest home, Dark senses something off. The air grows colder, and shadows seem to thicken around them. Inside, Rendor offers Dark a seat and a glass of water. Dark accepts, but his eyes never stop scanning the room, every sense on high alert.
Rendor: Life in this village has been quiet since Sukojo's time. People have their stories, but most have moved on, trying to forget the past.
Dark, sipping the water cautiously, keeps his gaze steady.
Dark: I've heard tales of Sukojo. What was he like?
Rendor's face grows somber, his tone reflecting the weight of old memories.
Rendor: Sukojo was a tyrant. His power was immense, his cruelty unmatched. He ruled with an iron fist, and anyone who dared oppose him was swiftly dealt with.
Dark leans in slightly, curiosity piqued.
Dark: And what of the Assassin Empire? Do you know anything about them?
Rendor looks startled, then lowers his voice to a whisper, as if afraid to be overheard.
Rendor: The Assassin Empire is shrouded in mystery. They say their assassins can transcend time and space, appearing and disappearing at will. It's said they have a technique called the Half Step, allowing them to move between moments, unseen and unstoppable.
Before Dark can ask more, a chill runs down his spine. The room's temperature plummets, and the flames in the fireplace flicker ominously. Dark turns sharply, sensing a presence. From the shadows, a figure materializes—a tall, cloaked assassin with the emblem of the Assassin Empire on his chest.
Dark reacts instantly, drawing his Kyuketsu in a flash, the black blade glinting in the firelight.
Dark: Who are you?
The assassin's voice is a chilling whisper, filled with menace.
Ryu: I am Ryu, emissary of the Assassin Empire. I come with a message for you, Dark.
Dark's grip tightens on his sword, ready for anything.
Dark: Speak quickly, then.
Ryu steps forward, his movements fluid and silent, like a shadow in the night.
Ryu: Sukojo has returned. He seeks to reclaim his throne and unleash his wrath upon those who defied him. The Assassin Empire offers you a choice: join us, and together we will defeat him, or stand alone and be destroyed.
Dark's eyes blaze with fury, his voice unwavering.
Dark: I don't need your help. I'll face Sukojo on my own terms.
Ryu's eyes gleam from beneath his hood, a hint of respect in his gaze.
Ryu: Very well. But know this, Dark: Sukojo's power is unlike anything you have faced. He is more than a tyrant; he is a force of nature.
With those words, Ryu vanishes as silently as he appeared, leaving Dark and Rendor in stunned silence. Dark sheaths his sword, his mind racing with the implications of Ryu's message.
Rendor's voice trembles, the fear evident.
Rendor: What will you do now?
Dark's resolve hardens, his purpose clear.
Dark: I'll do what I must. Sukojo must be stopped, and I won't let anyone—or anything—stand in my way.
Suddenly, Dark feels a powerful grip on his shoulder. Before he can react, he is yanked into the air at breakneck speed. The world blurs around him, and in the blink of an eye, he finds himself standing at the edge of a cliff, overlooking the vast landscape far from the village.
Dark gasps, disoriented, trying to process what just happened.
Dark: How... how did I get here?
Ryu's voice is a whisper in his ear, though the assassin stands behind him.
Ryu: What you just experienced is barely 0.001% of the Half Step.
Dark's mind reels from the speed and precision of the move. But before he can process it, he hears footsteps approaching from behind Ryu. Only Dark can see the newcomer—a figure with hands casually tucked into his pockets, whistling a low, tuneless melody.
It's Sukojo. His presence exudes annoyance and menace, each step measured and deliberate.
Sukojo: Well, well, what do we have here?
Sukojo's voice drips with irritation, his gaze fixed on Ryu. Ryu turns, but before he can react, Sukojo lunges forward with a front kick. Ryu disappears in a blur, reappearing behind Sukojo with Dark still in his grasp, his movements almost too fast to follow.
Sukojo turns slowly, his gaze deadly, eyes narrowing with intent.
Sukojo: You think you can take what's mine?
Ryu's grip tightens on Dark, his determination unwavering.
Ryu: You're nothing but a relic, Sukojo. The Assassin Empire will reclaim its power.
Sukojo's smile is cold and calculating, a predator sizing up his prey.
Sukojo: Let's see about that.
In a blur of motion, Sukojo closes the distance, engaging Ryu in a rapid exchange of blows. Each strike resounds with a thunderous impact, their speed and power creating shockwaves that ripple through the air. Sukojo's fist collides with Ryu's chest, sending him skidding backward, feet digging furrows into the ground.
Ryu retaliates, his blade slashing through the air with blinding speed. Sukojo ducks, the sword barely missing his head, and counters with a roundhouse kick that catches Ryu in the side, the force lifting him off his feet and slamming him into a nearby boulder, which shatters on impact.
Dark watches in awe and terror, barely able to track their movements. With a final, bone-crushing blow, Sukojo drives his elbow into Ryu's sternum, the sound of cracking bone echoing across the cliffside. Ryu crumples to the ground, gasping for breath, his hand clutching his chest. Blood trickles from his mouth, staining the ground.
Sukojo straightens, his cold gaze turning towards Dark, a mixture of disdain and concern in his eyes.
Sukojo: So, you're the one who thinks they can stand against me.
Dark, swallowing his fear, grips his Kyuketsu tighter. He squares his shoulders, stepping forward, every movement radiating determination.
Dark: I'm not afraid of you, Sukojo. Your reign of terror ends now.
Sukojo sighs, a look of disappointment crossing his face.
Sukojo: I don't want to fight you, Dark. There's no need for this.
In an instant, Sukojo closes the distance between them, his fist aimed directly at Dark's face. Dark barely manages to duck, feeling the wind of the punch graze the top of his head. He rolls to the side, coming up in a defensive stance, his eyes locked on Sukojo.
Dark: (thinking) He's fast. Too fast.
Sukojo: (thinking) I don't want to hurt him, but he leaves me no choice.
Sukojo's eyes narrow, a predatory gleam in them. He lunges again, his movements a blur. Dark counters with a swift upward slash of his Kyuketsu, but Sukojo anticipates the move, sidestepping and delivering a crushing kick to Dark's midsection. Dark grunts in pain, the force of the blow sending him skidding backwards.
Dark: (thinking) Damn... he's strong.
Before Dark can recover, Sukojo is upon him again, a relentless flurry of punches and kicks forcing Dark on the defensive. Each strike is precise and powerful, pushing Dark to his limits. He parries a punch aimed at his head, twisting his body to avoid a sweeping kick, and counterattacks with a quick thrust of his sword. The blade finds its mark, slicing a shallow cut across Sukojo's arm.
Sukojo: Impressive. But not enough.
With a roar, Sukojo grabs Dark by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Dark struggles, his vision blurring as Sukojo's grip tightens. Summoning his remaining strength, Dark channels his spiritual energy into his sword, causing it to glow with a dark, ominous light.
Dark: Let... go... of me!
With a powerful slash, Dark severs Sukojo's grip, the energy from his sword exploding in a burst of force that sends Sukojo staggering backwards. Dark drops to the ground, gasping for air, but quickly regains his footing.
Dark: I'm not done yet.
Sukojo, inspecting the cut on his arm, sighs heavily.
Sukojo: You've got spirit, Dark. But this fight is pointless. I've changed. I'm not the monster I once was.
Dark, his anger boiling over, charges forward, his movements a blend of agility and power, his Kyuketsu a blur of dark energy. He unleashes a series of rapid strikes, each one aiming for a vital point. Sukojo parries and dodges with ease, his movements fluid and confident. The two clash again and again, their battle a deadly dance of steel and skill.
As the fight intensifies, Dark feels his energy waning, each strike taking more effort than the last. Sukojo, sensing his opponent's fatigue, presses the attack, his blows coming faster and harder. Dark blocks a high kick, only to be caught by a brutal punch to the ribs that sends him crashing to the ground.
Dark: (thinking) Damn it... I'm not strong enough.
Sukojo steps back, giving Dark a chance to recover, his expression a mixture of frustration and empathy.
Sukojo: Stand down, Dark. I don't want to hurt you. I've been trying to make amends for my past, but you're forcing my hand.
Dark, struggling to rise, looks up at Sukojo, his vision swimming. But deep within, a fire still burns, a determination that refuses to be extinguished.
Dark: Not... yet.
With a final, desperate effort, Dark channels every last ounce of his spiritual energy into his Kyuketsu. The blade erupts with a blinding light, its power surging through Dark's body. He launches himself at Sukojo, his sword cutting through the air with unmatched speed and ferocity.
Sukojo: (thinking) I have to end this quickly, or he'll kill himself.
Sukojo raises his arms to block, but Dark's attack is unstoppable. The blade slices through Sukojo's defenses, cutting deep into his side. Sukojo staggers, blood dripping from the wound, a look of shock and regret on his face.
Sukojo: You... have to understand. I'm not your enemy.
Dark, his strength almost spent, stands tall, his sword still glowing with energy.
Dark: This... is for everyone you've hurt.
With a final, mighty effort, Dark delivers a powerful overhead strike. Sukojo attempts to dodge, but the blade connects, cutting a deep gash across his chest. Blood sprays from the wound, splattering the ground as Sukojo roars in pain, stumbling backwards, his hand clutching the wound.
Sukojo: This isn't over... not by a long shot.
Before Dark can respond, Sukojo vanishes in a swirl of darkness, his form dissipating into the night. Dark drops to one knee, panting heavily, the adrenaline slowly leaving his body. The battle is won, but he knows this is only the beginning of a much larger conflict.
Dark: (thinking) I have to get stronger... for everyone's sake.
The scene fades, leaving Dark alone on the cliff, the weight of his victory and the looming threats ahead resting heavily on his shoulders.
The camera shifts to the village, where people are whispering about the battle they just witnessed. The elders speak of Sukojo's past, recounting tales of his brutality and his recent attempts at redemption. Despite his efforts, the villagers remain wary, unable to forget the pain he once caused.
A shadowy figure watches from a distance, their eyes fixed on Dark. The figure steps forward, revealing a hood with the skull symbol of the Assassin Empire.
Figure: (thinking) This isn't over, Dark. Not by a long shot.
The figure melts into the shadows, leaving the village to ponder the uncertain future that lies ahead. Dark, now fully aware of the gravity of his situation, rises to his feet, determination etched across his face. He turns away from the cliff, ready to face whatever challenges come his way, his resolve unshakable.
Dark takes a moment to steady his breath, the weight of the recent battle settling in his mind. He sheaths his Kyuketsu, the dark blade still pulsating with residual energy. Determined, he begins his descent from the cliff, the path ahead fraught with uncertainty but driven by an unwavering resolve.
As he navigates the rugged terrain back to the village, Dark's thoughts swirl with the confrontation with Sukojo. Despite his claims of change, the memory of Sukojo's brutality lingers heavily in Dark's mind. Yet, there was something different in Sukojo's demeanor, a sense of regret and a desire to make amends.
Dark: (thinking) Can someone like Sukojo truly change? Or is it just another trick?
The village comes into view, its lights flickering softly in the encroaching darkness. As Dark walks through the narrow streets, the villagers' whispers and cautious glances follow him. He arrives at Rendor's home, where the old man waits with a concerned expression.
Rendor: I saw the battle from here, Dark. Are you alright?
Dark nods, placing a reassuring hand on Rendor's shoulder.
Dark: I'm fine, Rendor. But things are far from over. Sukojo... he's different now. He claims to have changed, but his past still haunts him.
Rendor: People don't change so easily. Be careful, Dark.
Dark: I will. Thank you, Rendor.
Dark continues to his own home, the familiar structure offering a small comfort amidst the chaos. He pushes open the door, greeted by the worried faces of Leona, Tier, and Gilmuar.
Leona: Dark, what happened? Are you hurt?
Dark, shaking his head, forces a tired smile.
Dark: I'm fine. It was Sukojo... he's changed. He didn't want to fight.
Tier, frowning, steps closer.
Tier: Changed? Sukojo? That's hard to believe.
Dark: I know. But there was something in his eyes... regret. He claimed he didn't want to fight.
Gilmuar crosses his arms, his expression skeptical but thoughtful.
Gilmuar: People don't just change overnight. Be careful, Dark. He might be trying to deceive you.
Dark: I'll keep that in mind. Right now, I need rest.
Leona: We were so worried. Get some sleep, Dark.
Dark moves to his room, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders. He lies down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of the battle, Sukojo's words, and the uncertain future.
Dark: (thinking) I have to be ready for whatever comes next. But for now... I need rest.
As his eyes close, exhaustion finally overtakes him. The sounds of the village fade into the background, and for a moment, peace settles over him. The battle is over, but the journey is far from finished. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, but for now, Dark allows himself to drift into the embrace of sleep, surrounded by the quiet presence of those he cares about.
Dark lies in his bed, the day's events swirling in his mind. Just as he begins to drift into sleep, a sudden, overwhelming sense of dread washes over him. His eyes snap open, his body tensing as he feels the intense spiritual pressure approaching their front door. The aura is so powerful that it feels like it's crushing his soul.
Dark: (thinking) What... what is this power?
He stumbles out of bed, his exhaustion making him clumsy. He rushes downstairs, almost tripping over his own feet. When he reaches the bottom, he sees Leona, Tier, and Gilmuar looking confused and concerned.
Dark: Get back! Don't open the door!
His friends, sensing the urgency in his voice, back away from the door. Dark, heart pounding, approaches the door and takes a deep breath before opening it.
What he sees makes his eyes widen in complete shock. Standing at the threshold are Nekros and his lord, Caje. Behind them is a figure of complete darkness, a terrifying presence with three white things on its face representing eyes that never blink, a mouth full of sharp teeth bared in a menacing grin.
Dark: What do you want?
The figure at the back steps forward, its presence sending chills down Dark's spine. When it speaks, its voice is a deep, echoing whisper, filled with an otherworldly resonance.
Figure: We come with a message, Dark. The balance of power is shifting. Forces beyond your understanding are at play. We seek an alliance, for the true enemy is awakening. If we do not stand together, all will be lost.
Dark: (thinking) An alliance? With them? What could be so dangerous that they would come to me?
Nekros, his eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and threat, adds to the figure's statement.
Nekros: You've seen what we can do, Dark. This is not a request. It's a necessity. The darkness you felt tonight is only a fraction of what is to come. We need your strength, your resolve. Join us, or perish in the chaos.
Dark, his mind racing, struggles to process the gravity of the situation. He glances back at his friends, their faces pale with fear and confusion, then returns his gaze to the figures at the door.
Dark: Why should I trust you? After everything you've done?
Caje steps forward, his aura exuding authority and power, yet there's a hint of desperation in his eyes.
Caje: Because we have no other choice. The enemy we face is beyond any of us. If we do not unite, our world will fall into eternal darkness. You don't have to trust us, but you must understand the stakes.
The figure of darkness looms closer, its eyes piercing into Dark's very soul.
Figure: Decide quickly, Dark. The time for hesitation is over. Will you join us and fight, or will you stand alone and be consumed by the abyss?
Dark stands there, his heart pounding, knowing that his decision will shape the fate of everyone he cares about. The weight of the moment presses down on him, and he feels the eyes of his friends, the village, and the world upon him.
Dark: (thinking) What do I do? Can I really trust them? But if what they say is true...
With a deep breath, Dark makes his choice, knowing that whatever comes next, he must be ready to face it head-on. His mouth moves but what he says could not be heard.
End of Chapter 14.