And then, after a few days, it happened.
The five Samurai Clans that had once served under the Hibuko Clan rebelled. Streets that had once thrived under Yami Hibuko's rule now burned and shattered, transformed into brutal battlefields.
The clans fought as one, united against the Hibuko Clan. Emka plunged into chaos, its heart a storm of steel, blood, and fire. From the shadows, the early agents of the world ruling dominion watched silently, murmuring:
"Yami Hibuko will soon die."
Homes were razed, flames devouring everything in their path. The screams of the innocent pierced the night. Swords flashed under the cold moonlight, dripping crimson in the mist that hung heavy over the land. Rivers ran red, reflecting the carnage as famine and desperation gripped the people.
Food became a treasure worth killing for. Families turned on one another, neighbors betrayed neighbors, and the streets ran with both blood and betrayal. Fear was a living entity, gnawing at every soul.
Amidst the chaos, cries echoed through the broken city:
"Where is our saviour?"
"Where is Yami Hibuko?"
"Why won't he save us like he always does?"
Faith in their Kurozuki lingered, a fragile hope that he would emerge from the shadows and end the nightmare. Yet, he never appeared. Not once.
Why?
Because…