First blood

The city is silent after the rain.

Kurogane City sleeps uneasily, unaware of the war beneath its streets. Neon signs flicker, reflecting off puddles that ripple with the distant echoes of sirens. Somewhere above, drones scan for anomalies. Somewhere below, lives are about to collide.

⸻

Scene 1 — Miro’s First Mission

Miro Hakimajiro sits in a corner of the Assassin’s underground compound.

Lola has handed him a small pouch:

• Two smoke bombs

• A Tonto replica without poison (training)

• A map of the target’s route

Director Kaien’s words echo in his head:

“This is your first real test. Not training. Not initiation. A life will end tonight.”

Miro stares at the target: a minor officer rumored to be corrupt. A low-level informant who has been feeding the Police intel that harms Assassin operations.

He swallows.

For the first time, he feels the weight of the choice he made.

He mutters under his breath:

“All I wanted was money…”

The underground corridor behind him hums with electricity from Haitan-imbued seals. His black mark pulses faintly.

Lola leans close.

“Remember, pain moves. Not disappears. Control it, or it will control you.”

He nods, but fear gnaws at his stomach.

⸻

Scene 2 — The Hunt Begins

Above ground, the officer walks alone through a quiet street. He’s unaware of the shadow that follows him: Miro, sweating, gripping the Tonto replica.

He steps on a puddle. It ripples.

The officer glances back.

Nothing.

Miro hesitates. His heart pounds.

He’s supposed to strike. But the officer is alive. Breathing. Human.

He remembers Lola’s words. The first time he tried Haitan in the training arena. Riku’s scream. The way pain shifted… unpredictably.

“If I fail, I die.”

The mark on his wrist burns.

He raises his hand. Focuses.

The officer trips on a loose grate. Pain explodes through his ankle. Not lethal, just enough to slow him.

Miro gasps. The sensation of hurting someone without touching them terrifies him. He wants to stop.

Then he sees the officer’s phone light up—a picture of a sick child. His family.

Miro freezes.

The weight of real consequences crushes him.

⸻

Scene 3 — Police Perspective

Far above the city, a Police surveillance office buzzes with quiet urgency.

A female officer in her late twenties monitors multiple feeds. Her eyes narrow as she spots the faint black aura trailing across the streets.

“Haitan signature… unregistered.”

Her partner glances at her.

“New Assassin candidate?”

She doesn’t answer.

Instead, she traces the trajectory of the target.

“If he’s activated, he’s dangerous. We can’t let him reach full potential.”

She types a command, activating city-wide lockdown protocols. Gates lock, streets seal, drones activate.

“Track him. Follow him. And… if necessary… neutralize him.”

Her voice is cold. Not cruel. Calculated. Efficient.

Somewhere in her tone lurks the same system Miro is fighting to survive.

⸻

Scene 4 — The Strike

Miro exhales. His first kill.

Not completed yet. Not perfect. But he has taken control of his Haitan mark. Pain flows through him like water, spilling onto the officer without touching him.

The officer collapses, screaming.

Miro stands frozen. The map, the reward, the money—it doesn’t matter anymore.

“What… have I done?”

Lola’s voice echoes in his mind.

“Control it, or it will control you.”

He feels the first taste of war. Not glory. Not money.

Fear. Guilt. Responsibility.

All of it bundled into a mark pulsing across his skin.

Behind the officer, the streets lock down. Drones hum. Sirens pierce the night.

Miro glances at the shadows. Police are closing in.

This isn’t training.

This isn’t initiation.