A gentle breeze swept through the quiet village of Tsukihara.

  The scent of rain lingered in the air, mixing with the distant warmth of burning lanterns. It was a night like any other—simple, serene, untouched by the weight of fate.

  Nestled between two great mountain ranges, Tsukihara was a place forgotten by war, untouched by chaos. The people here lived in quiet harmony, far removed from the conflicts of the outside world. Warriors were rare. Violence even rarer.

  Yet, amidst that peace, a child slept soundly in his mother’s arms.

  Raiyo Kisaragi. Two years old.

  His tiny fingers twitched in his sleep, his expression serene. The soft glow of the lantern flickered against his delicate features, casting shadows over his snow-pale skin. One eye, deep and infinite blue. The other, a mysterious shade of violet that seemed to shimmer like the galaxies above.

  Saya sat beside him, humming a gentle lullaby.

  Her voice was like silk, soothing, calm.

  She had done this every night since he was born—cradling him in her arms, whispering stories of the world outside. Tales of warriors who rose from nothing, of kings who shaped the heavens, of battles fought in honor and disgrace.

  She had no idea that her son would one day walk a path even greater than the legends she spoke of.

  Across the room, Renji Kisaragi sat in silence, his sword resting against his knee.

  He was a fighter. A warrior by blood. He had long since sworn to protect this village, to keep it free from the dangers that lurked beyond the mountains.

  And yet—

  That night, he felt something wasn’t right.

  A strange stillness hung in the air. The kind that did not belong to a peaceful village.

  His instincts, sharpened over years of battle, stirred within him. He turned his gaze toward the window. The mountains loomed in the distance, their dark silhouettes barely visible beneath the moonlit sky.

  Then, he saw it.

  A flicker. A distortion. A movement that shouldn’t have been there.

  For a moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. But then—

  The bells rang.

  DONG.

  The deep, hollow sound shattered the silence.

  DONG.

  Renji was already moving.

  DONG.

  He grabbed his sword and bolted for the door.

  Saya looked up, startled. “Renji?”

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  He turned to her, his eyes dark with something she hadn’t seen in years.

  Fear.

  “Take Raiyo. Hide. Now.”

  And then, he was gone.

  Outside, the village was already in chaos.

  Flames erupted from wooden rooftops, their embers painting the night in streaks of orange and red. The once-quiet streets were filled with the sound of screams.

  Figures moved between the fire and smoke—twisted beings draped in shadows.

  The Voidborn.

  Renji had fought many battles in his life. He had seen warriors, monsters, even things that shouldn’t have existed.

  But never had he seen anything like this.

  These creatures did not walk—they flowed. Their bodies twisted unnaturally, their limbs stretching and folding in ways that defied reality. Their faces were empty voids, hollow sockets where eyes should have been.

  And they were devouring people whole.

  A young man tried to run—only for a black tendril to lash out, pierce his chest, and drag him screaming into the darkness.

  A mother shielded her child—only to watch as the Voidborn’s fingers dissolved her flesh, reducing her to dust in mere seconds.

  Renji clenched his jaw.

  He had to end this.

  Sword in hand, he lunged forward, cutting through the nearest Voidborn. His blade, sharp enough to slice through steel, met no resistance.

  It passed through the creature like it wasn’t even there.

  Renji’s eyes widened.

  “Impossible.”

  The Voidborn turned its hollow gaze toward him.

  Then, it attacked.

  A mass of black tendrils lashed out. Renji barely dodged, twisting his body as he sliced at the creature again.

  This time, he aimed for the core.

  The Voidborn let out a piercing shriek as his blade connected with something solid.

  Renji didn’t hesitate—he struck again, and again, and again.

  The creature shuddered.

  And then—it collapsed into nothing.

  Breathing hard, Renji turned. More were coming.

  Too many.

  His mind raced. How had they gotten through the barrier?

  The village had been protected by ancient seals for centuries—seals that should have kept creatures like these out.

  Unless…

  Unless someone had broken them.

  His heart pounded. He had to get to Saya.

  Saya was still inside the house.

  She clutched Raiyo tightly, whispering prayers under her breath.

  Then, the walls began to crack.

  The shadows crept in, slithering across the floor like living things. The air grew cold.

  Then—

  The door exploded inward.

  A Voidborn stepped through.

  Saya gasped, pressing Raiyo closer to her chest. It was huge. Its form barely fit inside the small house, its body a writhing mass of darkness, its hollow eyes fixed on them.

  She wanted to run. But there was nowhere to go.

  The Voidborn lunged.

  SHHK!

  A blade pierced through its chest.

  Renji stood behind it, his sword buried deep in its core. His body was covered in blood—both his own and that of others.

  “Saya!” he shouted. “Get out of here!”

  She nodded, holding Raiyo tight, running toward the back exit.

  But then—

  A second Voidborn emerged.

  Faster than before.

  And this time, Renji wasn’t fast enough.

  The creature pierced through his stomach.

  His eyes widened. His sword fell from his grip.

  “Renji!” Saya screamed.

  But it was too late.

  Renji staggered, blood pouring from his wound. He turned, locking eyes with his wife—one final time.

  And then, the Voidborn dragged him into the darkness.

  Saya choked back a sob.

  There was no time to grieve.

  Clutching Raiyo tightly, she ran.

  Raiyo was only two years old.

  But as his mother held him close, sprinting through the burning village, something inside him changed.

  His tiny fingers clenched.

  His violet eye shimmered with something dark—something ancient.

  He didn’t know what it was.

  He didn’t know why.

  But for the first time in his young life, he felt it.

  Hate.

  And though he was too young to understand—

  It was the day he vowed to never forgive.

  Never forget.

  And one day—he would make them pay.