The world was black.

  Not the absence of light—this was deeper, like drowning in the belly of something ancient. The kind of dark that swallowed screams, where even thoughts struggled to form. Ren floated within it, weightless yet sinking, his body numb and distant. He should have been dead. Instead, he felt... suspended, as if caught between existence and nothingness.

  Then, the voice returned.

  You want to live.

  It was not a question. It was an undeniable truth, layered with something far older than the language it spoke in. The moment Ren acknowledged it, something coiled around his soul, threading through his very being like an unseen serpent. A contract, one he hadn't signed with ink, but with desperation.

  Then came the pain.

  It was different from the beatings, from starvation, from the cold gnawing at his ribs. This pain was inside him, burrowing deeper than bone, unraveling and reweaving him all at once. He wanted to scream, but the darkness stole his voice.

  And then he fell.

  Ren's body convulsed as he slammed onto the wooden dock, the force rattling his bones. The enforcers recoiled as an oppressive wave of something—something vast, unknowable—rolled off him in pulses, distorting the air like heat mirage.

  His skin burned, but not from fire. It was an internal heat, like his blood had been replaced with molten metal. The shadows beneath him pulsed, expanding outward like a living thing. Ren’s vision blurred, flickering between the docks and somewhere else—a place of endless night, where things with too many eyes watched from the abyss.

  The Tengu-masked enforcer took a cautious step forward, his naginata raised. “What—”

  Ren moved.

  No, something moved through him.

  One moment he was kneeling, the next, he was in front of the enforcer. The shadows carried him, not quite teleportation, but a slipping through space. The enforcer barely had time to react before Ren’s hand shot forward, his fingers curling like talons. Shadow pooled in his palm, solidifying into something jagged and unnatural—a weapon born of instinct rather than thought.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  The moment his makeshift blade touched the enforcer’s armor, something terrible happened.

  The lacquered metal didn’t break. It unraveled. The enforcer’s chest plate peeled apart like dried paper, the material disintegrating into wisps of black mist. Panic flashed in the man’s eyes as he stumbled back, but Ren’s body moved on its own, a predator following the scent of prey.

  Another enforcer lunged, slashing downward. Ren twisted. The world slowed. He saw the arc of the blade, the droplets of rain clinging to its surface. His body shouldn’t have been able to move this fast. But the shadows whispered, guiding him. He sidestepped, the blade missing him by a breath.

  And then he devoured.

  Ren’s free hand snapped forward, fingers brushing against the enforcer’s wrist. The moment they made contact, the armored sleeve began to dissolve, the very essence of it stolen by the void coiling inside him.

  The enforcer screamed.

  What the hell is happening?

  Ren barely had time to think before instinct kicked in again. His foot lashed out, striking the enforcer’s knee. Bone cracked, and the man collapsed with a pained grunt. The last enforcer hesitated, stepping back.

  Smart.

  Ren exhaled, his breath misting despite the rain. He could feel it now—the Mandate.

  The thing that had sunk its hooks into him, binding him to something far beyond mortal understanding. It wasn’t just power; it was law, a system written into the fabric of reality. And somehow, it had chosen him.

  [ Kami Mandate Established ]

  [ Name: Kurozawa Ren ] [ Designation: Bound ] [ Initial Constraint: Mortality Erased — You exist beyond the cycle of life and death. But you are not free. You are owned. ] [ Primary Directive: Survive ] [ Unclaimed Aspect: ??? ]

  The words burned into his vision, as if they had always been there, waiting to be seen. The Mandate pulsed inside him, a tether that bound him to something incomprehensibly vast. And yet, it felt right, like slipping into a second skin.

  Ren took a slow breath. The enforcers hesitated, recognizing the shift in the air. He could feel their fear now, a scent in the rain, a taste on his tongue. They weren’t facing the starving street rat they had been hunting.

  They were facing something else entirely.

  But then—

  A shudder ran through the air, like the world itself had exhaled.

  From the rooftops, a figure descended.

  Unlike the enforcers, this one moved with purpose, his armor pristine, his mask a smooth, featureless void. He landed soundlessly, his hand resting on the hilt of an ikazuchi, a blade said to be forged from the bones of dead gods.

  Ren tensed.

  The newcomer tilted his head. “The Mandate has bound itself to you.”

  His voice was calm. Amused, even.

  Ren said nothing, his muscles coiled, ready.

  The man exhaled, as if slightly disappointed. “Then we have a problem.”

  Lightning flashed.

  And the world exploded into motion.