I never imagined myself as a good person, though I always liked the idea of altruistic people—heroes who stood for the weak against something greater and darker. Superman, Spiderman, Nightwing… those were my favorite heroes.
But deep down, I always knew I could never be like them. Life demands a certain level of selfishness, after all. I imagined that if I ever became superpowered, I wouldn't be a hero, nor would I fall into the role of a villain. I would simply be me. Nothing more. Nothing less. But since I wasn't born with power, then… who was I?
As Gabriel, I lived as it was expected of me. Not out of some burning passion to "make it in life," but because my family needed me. We struggled every day just to put food on the table, and I needed a career that could give us stability.
Eventually, things improved. My father found a better job. As I grew more independent, my mother had time to return to work. I watched over my younger sister. My life, in short, had its ups and downs, dictated by the currents of fate surrounding us—an economic crisis that stole jobs, a storm that tore apart our home, a corruption scandal that collapsed an entire company. Everyday chaos.
I was just a small piece in a much larger scheme, pushed from one side to another. I savored happiness when it came, endured the suffering when it struck, never possessing any real power to change my path. Even this power I now wield came to me only through sheer fortune—something I never controlled. And as the sages say: what is given can also be taken away.
But this time… I refuse to remain just a piece on someone else's board. Even if this newfound strength is not enough to turn me into the sole author of my fate, I will use it to lay the foundation of my new existence.
The sun was sinking behind the horizon as I stood atop the humble wall surrounding the village. Silence stretched over the streets. A corpse lay not far from me—probably the guard who once patrolled this section of the perimeter, now dead by the hands of those sowing chaos here.
That silence, that emptiness… it reminded me of my old neighborhood whenever the police carried out raids against gangs. The helplessness in the air, the weight of violence that pressed down on us, the suffocating instinct to survive, to stay hidden, to avoid becoming another casualty of stray bullets.
I felt empathy for these villagers. And maybe that was why my chest burned with anger. I never considered myself a good man, much less a hero. But that didn't stop me from being enraged by this scene.
With a single leap, I made my way toward the building at the heart of all this chaos—a warehouse, now half in ruins. Perhaps the perpetrators of this attack had their reasons. After all, in the world of shinobi, there are rarely villains—only conflicts of interest.
'I am no hero, nor will I ever be. If I were to wield powers beyond comprehension, I would end up like Fang Yuan… or worse.'
Yet when I saw the warehouse surrounded, the puppet of a spiked man emerging to the fray, and felt the poison seeping from those barbs, my fists clenched. I surged forward, energy coursing through me, and let it all fly in a single punch.
-BOOOOM-
The puppet shattered into a thousand fragments, to my fist the puppet was frail as a eggshell. The shockwave rippled across the warehouse. Adrenaline surged through my blood. A thirst for battle rose within me.
"I have only one question for you…"
I spoke, my gaze piercing through the Sand shinobi—whether hidden or exposed, I knew they understood my intent.
"…Are you ready?"
This was my domain now.
[POV: Third Person – Takumi Village]
"W-What…"
"What just happened…?"
The guards stood stunned, as did everyone else.
"Seimei-sama!" Imaki rushed forward, positioning himself at his lord's side.
Fudoka, shaken by the display she had just witnessed, acted on pure instinct. Without a second thought, she unleashed a volley of poisoned shuriken toward the intruder who had disrupted their mission.
"No!" The captain tried to warn her, but it was already too late. Their squad had made the first move, initiating combat against an enemy they knew nothing about.
Seimei, still in shock, regained his senses just in time to react—yet before he could say anything, the stranger vanished in a blur. Too fast for the eye to follow. The shuriken shattered in the air as his body move, and a heartbeat later the kunoichi was struck with such force that her chest caved in.
Her body was flung across the warehouse, smashing through the weakened wall. Witnesses were once again left in horror at the raw power of this mysterious figure who had turned hunters into prey in the blink of an eye.
"Retreat!"
The Sand shinobi scattered, each fleeing in a different direction. But Utahei, having stood closest to the kunoichi, found himself directly in the path of the intruder. He knew, with this monster's speed there was no escape.
'If I am doomed regardless… then I will die fighting!'
"Wind Release: Wind Cutter Technique!"
From the long sleeves of his uniform, Utahei summoned a raging gale that split into countless slicing blades.
The stranger's response was immediate. Chakra gathered in his fist glowing in seven shimmering hues. With a single strike, he released it.
The blow became a roaring dragon of rainbow light, tearing through the blades of wind as though they were nothing but autumn leaves.
"This… this can't be! No—!"
Utahei screamed as the overwhelming energy engulfed him, his body consumed by its scorching impact. The dragon of light ascended into the heavens, leaving a blazing trail across the twilight sky.
The villagers, still hidden in their homes, could only pray that this was some kind of divine omen—that salvation had come. Meanwhile, Seimei, Imaki, and the guards stood speechless, their eyes wide at the power of the stranger who had saved them.
All of them, without exception, were asking the same question:
"Who is this man?"