The wind howled like a grieving spirit.
Ash drifted through the night sky, carried by a cold breeze that whispered of death and betrayal. Flames licked the remains of what was once known as the Azure Cloud Sect, a place of honor, discipline, and power.
Now, it was nothing but ruin.
Bodies lay scattered across the courtyard—
disciples, elders, even servants. None were spared.
A boy knelt in the center of it all.
His name was Jin Ryu.
He was sixteen.
And he was the last survivor.
His hands trembled, stained with blood that was not entirely his own. His breathing was shallow, uneven, like someone who had just awakened from a nightmare—except this was no dream.
"Why…?"
The word barely left his lips.
In front of him lay the body of his master.
Elder Han, the man who had raised him since he was a child, lay motionless with a sword piercing his chest. His robes, once pristine, were soaked crimson.
Jin Ryu clenched his fists.
He remembered the attack.
It had been swift. Too swift.
Masked warriors descended like shadows, cutting through the sect with terrifying precision. They knew the layout, the formations, even the hidden passages.
This was no random attack.
This was planned.
This was betrayal.
A faint crunch echoed behind him.
Jin Ryu froze.
Someone was still here.
Slowly, he turned.
A figure emerged from the smoke—tall, cloaked in black, their face hidden behind a white mask. Unlike the others, this one carried no visible weapon.
Yet the air around them felt… heavy.
"You survived."
The voice was calm. Cold.
Jin Ryu forced himself to stand, his legs shaking.
"You… you did this…"
The masked figure tilted their head slightly.
"Partially."
Rage surged through Jin Ryu's veins.
"Why?!"
A pause.
Then—
"Because your sect possessed something it should not."
Jin Ryu's heart skipped a beat.
"What…?"
The figure stepped closer.
"The Heavenly Ash Scripture."
Jin Ryu's eyes widened.
That name…
He had heard it only once, in whispers, from Elder Han. A forbidden technique. One said to grant immense power… at a terrible cost.
"We searched," the figure continued, "but it was not found."
Their gaze locked onto Jin Ryu.
"Which leaves only one possibility."
Jin Ryu felt a chill run down his spine.
"No… I don't—"
Before he could finish, the figure moved.
In an instant, they were in front of him.
Too fast.
Jin Ryu tried to react, but a hand gripped his throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.
"Tell me," the figure said quietly. "Where is it?"
"I—I don't know!"
The grip tightened.
His vision blurred.
"Lies."
Jin Ryu struggled, his hands clawing at the arm holding him, but it was like iron.
"I swear—!"
The pressure suddenly vanished.
He fell to the ground, coughing violently.
The masked figure stepped back.
"Interesting…"
Jin Ryu gasped for air, confusion mixing with fear.
"You truly don't know."
Silence lingered.
Then—
"Very well."
Jin Ryu looked up.
The figure turned away.
"You are of no use to us."
Relief flooded him—briefly.
Because the next words froze his blood.
"But leaving you alive… is a risk."
The figure raised their hand.
Energy gathered—dark, suffocating.
Jin Ryu's body refused to move.
This was it.
He was going to die.
Just like everyone else.
His vision flickered.
And then—
A voice echoed in his mind.
Live.
Everything stopped.
Time itself seemed to freeze.
Jin Ryu's eyes widened.
"What…?"
The world around him darkened.
And in that darkness—
A burning sensation ignited within his chest.