After that day — the trigger trial — Axios changed tactics.
No more morality tests. No more hesitation drills.
This time, it was the body.
Itsumi was subjected to inhuman physical trials. He was forced to carry weights far beyond what a child his age could endure. But the punishment for failure wasn't pain — it was the death of innocents. He lifted until his arms tore, bled, and broke.
They drilled him in marksmanship, sniper physics, calculation under stress. He had seconds to find the angle, compute wind resistance, adjust for distance. One mistake, and someone "vanished" in another room.
He was taught everything.
Carpentry. Locksmithing. Mechanical theory.How doors were made. How furniture worked. How concrete could hide a wire or a sensor.Every profession. Every craft. Every skill that could help him infiltrate, sabotage, or disappear.
Then came the wilderness.
Deserts. Mountains. Forests. Ocean survival. Arctic exposure.He was dropped in remote zones with no gear and one instruction: Adapt, or die.
Sometimes he was made to compete against beasts — feral animals, mutated experiments, creatures with senses far beyond human.
And he survived.
By the time he turned nine, Itsumi no longer cried.No longer asked questions.He was ready for his first mission.
Axios met him in the armory.
The room was sleek, quiet, and filled with death.
Axios stood with arms crossed, his voice calm — almost fatherly.
"Do you know why we exist, Itsumi?"
Itsumi said nothing. He didn't need to.
"Our mission is simple. Keep the world... slow. Keep it quiet. Keep it stable."
"We kill promise. We kill potential. We kill the ones who might one day create peace or disrupt the balance."
"We maintain the status quo by ending the ones who could change it."
Then, he handed Itsumi a photo.
A girl. No older than sixteen.Brilliant. Top of her class. Studying under the world's best minds.
Axios spoke like he was reading a death sentence.
"Your first target. Kill her. Burn the body. Leave only her clothes.Make it look like a kidnapping. No body, no questions. Leave them chasing ghosts."
Itsumi didn't want to.Not even now.
But he knew resistance was pointless. Someone else would be sent.And they wouldn't be quick. They wouldn't be clean.
So he accepted the mission.
That night, a stealth transport dropped him on a rooftop. The city lights glimmered around him.
He pulled up the tracker.
Target acquired.
He watched her from afar — radiant, refined, yet somehow kind. She smiled easily, laughed with friends. She wasn't arrogant. Just... human.
For hours, he observed.
Waited.
Watched.
Finally, she left alone.
She walked down a quiet street, heels tapping gently on stone.
Then a wrong turn. A narrow alley.
Itsumi moved like a shadow.
No hesitation.
No words.
A single, clean shot to the head.He caught her before she hit the ground.
He stripped the body. Left her belongings behind.To the world, it would look like a sudden abduction.
Then, he took her to the mountains. Burned everything. Scattered the ashes into a deep lake.
Mission complete.
He reported. Was extracted.Returned to base.
Axios congratulated him with a nod.
"You did well."
Itsumi said nothing.
Inside, something hollowed deeper.
His first mission was a success.
And that was the worst part.