It had been a month since the djinn took Toa Village hostage. They treated the villagers like animals, forcing them to obey their every whim. Children became footstools, men their punching bags, and women nothing more than toys for their amusement.
On the night of the full moon, a pair of siblings sat on a patch of grass outside the village. Though they were only eight years old, they had been sent to hunt for food for their oppressors in the cold, dangerous forest surrounding their home.
The younger of the twins clutched her stuffed toy tightly as tears streamed down her face.
"I'm scared," she sobbed. "I don't want to be eaten by monsters."
"I know," her brother replied, struggling to hold back his own tears. "But if we don't go, they'll beat Mom again."
"But the last kids who were sent out died!" she cried, before breaking into uncontrollable coughing.
He lifted her onto his back. "Let's go back."
"No!" she protested weakly. "If we do, they'll hurt Mom again."
"We don't have a choice," he yelled, his voice cracking. "You're too sick to move, let alone hunt!"
She began crying harder. "I don't understand. Why did this happen? Why can't we go back to how things were before… when everyone was happy?"
He stayed silent and kept walking. That silence only made her cry more as they drew closer to the giant crimson dome that surrounded their once-beloved home. As they drew closer the cries suddenly stopped. The older brother looked back to see that she had fainted due to her overwhelming fever. Every fighter in the village had been killed to showcase the djinn's supremacy. There was no hope left.
The children stopped at the foot of the dome, where the village gate had once stood. The barrier opened just enough to let them pass through.
As they walked through the village, hushed voices followed them.
" Hey aren't those Hayato Shia's kids. Aren't they the ones that were sent out to get those bastards some meat." one man whispered.
" That's just despicable, sending out kids to hunt at this hour." a woman continued," All of this just because they're the kids of the leader of the village's fighters."
"Poor kids. It would've been better if they'd just died out there," another man muttered.
"Better that than what those demons will do to them," an old woman replied.
The boy heard every word, yet he still held onto hope. Maybe… maybe he could reason with them.
When they entered the small cabin where the djinn were staying, he could barely breathe under the crushing weight of their spiritual energy.
"The brats are back, boss," one djinn said. "And they're empty-handed."
The leader rose from his wooden chair and walked toward them. Each step sent terror flooding through the boy's body.
"S-sorry, sir," he stammered. "W-we didn't find any food."
"Is that so?" the leader said coldly, before kicking him in the gut. Blood spilled from the boy's mouth as he collapsed.
"Do you think I'm stupid? Or did you forget what happens when you come back empty-handed?"
"I'm sorry!" the boy cried, shielding his sister's unconscious body. "She was too sick—we had to come back!"
"Yeah, right," the leader sneered. "Looks like threatening your mother wasn't enough. Fine then. I'll just kill her."
He shoved the boy aside and lifted the girl by her throat.
"And I'll do it in front of the whole village. Maybe then you'll do your job properly next time."
"Please!" the boy screamed, clutching the hem of the djinn's robe. "I'll do anything—just don't kill her!"
Enraged, the leader kicked him with brutal force, sending him flying through the cabin door and crashing outside.
The sound drew the villagers' attention. They emerged from their homes to see the boy vomiting blood as the djinn stepped out of the cabin, the girl now conscious being dragged by her hair by the leader.
"Haruki!" she cried. "Are you okay?!"
"I'm fine Aiko," he said weakly, before coughing up more blood.
"Let me go, you meanie!" she yelled, struggling.
"Oh no you don't," the leader said, grabbing her by the throat. "You'll make a perfect example for your fellow scum."
"No! Stop!" the boy screamed, turning desperately to the villagers. "Someone, please save her!"
No one moved. They couldn't. Shame forced them to look away.
The girl clutched her toy tightly and gazed up at the sky. A single tear rolled down her cheek, sparkling as it reflected the moonlight.
Someone… save me.
Suddenly, a giant septa circle appeared high above the dome.
Septa circles appear when an Ashura Samurai performs sihir. At their center lies a crescent moon and star, surrounded by an eight-pointed star and twin rings etched with strange symbols.
One of the djinn began to sweat. "B-boss… look up. Isn't that one of the Ashura Samurai's septa circles?"
The leader's eyes widened. He threw the girl to the ground beside her brother and looked up.
"Don't panic," he growled. "There's no way they can get through the Blood Moon Sphere."
Glowing lights gathered beneath the circle, forming a red sphere that shot downward toward the dome.
"Hey, sis… that looks like—" the boy began.
"A shooting star," she whispered, clutching her toy as a tear ran down her cheek
The sphere ignited as it descended. When it struck the dome, the barrier shattered like cheap glass.
The blazing mass crashed into the village, erupting into a roaring inferno. From within the flames, a man emerged, dressed in black, a sword at his waist.
His expression was cold, untouched by the fire around him.
The djinn staggered back as their leader shouted, "Who the hell are you?!"
"Oh, me?" the man replied, turning his gaze toward them. His eyes left faint trails of red light as he spoke.
"I'm Tsushiro Yamada."
He rested his hand on his sword.
"And I'm the last face you'll ever see."