Lightning split the night, carving jagged veins of silver across the storm-choked sky. The enforcers flinched at the sudden flash, but Ren only tightened his grip on the weightless void coiling around his fingers. The featureless masked figure standing before him—the one who spoke as if the Kami Mandate was a mere inconvenience—had yet to move. And that made him infinitely more dangerous than the ones Ren had already cut down.

  Ren exhaled slowly, forcing his pulse to steady.

  The Mandate thrummed in his bones.

  He knew nothing of it. And yet, he knew it. As if it had always been a part of him, buried beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to uncoil.

  [ Kami Mandate Established ]

  [ Name: Kurozawa Ren ] [ Designation: Bound ] [ Primary Directive: Survive ] [ Mandate Rank: ??? ] [ Flaw: Hunger Unending — You must consume to sustain your existence. The more you use the Mandate, the more the void within you gnaws at your soul. ]

  Ren clenched his teeth.

  So that’s the price.

  Power, given form by the depths of his suffering. The stronger the desire—the deeper the wound—the greater the Mandate’s response. But it was never free. The flaw was always tied to the power. A balance, cruel and absolute.

  “You’re not the first,” the masked figure said, voice calm, unreadable. “You won’t be the last.”

  Ren’s fingers twitched. He forced himself not to react.

  “Do you think you’re special, boy?” the man continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. “That the Mandate chose you because you’re different?”

  A slow breath.

  Ren laughed.

  It was a dry, humorless thing, sharp as the rain pelting his skin. “Special?” he murmured, voice laced with quiet mockery. “No. I think I’m fucked.”

  The man let out a short chuckle. “Good. At least you understand that much.”

  A flicker of movement—too fast to track.

  Ren’s body moved before his mind could catch up. Shadows curled beneath his feet, surging up his legs, dragging him sideways just as a thin line of silver passed through the space where his throat had been. A blade. A precise one.

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  The masked figure hadn’t drawn his sword. He’d flicked it.

  The space between them shrank to nothing. Ren twisted, shadows surging, his void-born claws lashing forward—

  Metal met darkness.

  A shockwave detonated between them. The docks beneath their feet cracked, splinters exploding outward as force rippled through the air. Ren gritted his teeth as his feet slid backward, his own power buckling under the sheer weight of the man’s strike.

  He’s stronger.

  But that was obvious. Ren had just stepped into this world. This man—whoever he was—lived in it.

  Still. That didn’t mean Ren was out of options.

  The Mandate pulsed.

  Survive.

  Ren let go of resistance. He let the hunger take him.

  Darkness roiled from his skin, tendrils of shadow unfurling like liquid ink in water. They coiled, devoured, consuming the residual force of the impact. His footing stabilized. His grin sharpened.

  “You talk a lot,” Ren said, flexing his fingers. The claws shifted, warping slightly in his grasp. “Is that part of the job? Or are you just lonely?”

  The man’s mask remained unreadable. “Amusing.”

  He lifted his blade again, slow, deliberate.

  “Tell me, boy.” His voice was almost curious. “How much do you know about the Mandate?”

  Ren didn’t answer.

  He barely knew anything. But admitting that? Not an option.

  The masked man exhaled. “Then let me educate you.”

  [ The Kami Mandate ]

  [ Origin: Unknown. First recorded manifestation—1000 years ago. ] [ Selection Criteria: Those who have suffered. Those whose desire eclipses their fear. ] [ Flaws: Every Mandate gift bears a corresponding flaw. The greater the power, the heavier the burden. ] [ Hierarchy: Six Levels. The stronger one’s will, the higher they ascend. ]

  Ren barely had time to process the words searing themselves into his vision before the man continued.

  “The Mandate does not belong to you alone.” His blade gleamed under the stormlight. “It is a law of the world. And there are many who wield it.”

  He moved again.

  This time, Ren was ready.

  The moment the blade neared his throat, he let go. His body blurred, slipping into the void between spaces. When he reappeared, he was behind the man, claws striking forward—

  The sword met his strike. Again.

  But this time, Ren saw it. Felt it.

  The man’s Mandate pulsed, distinct and sharp, a force that bent the air around him. And the flaw that followed it—

  Blood dripped from beneath the mask. A single drop, trailing down his chin.

  Ren’s grin widened.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  The man stilled.

  Ren tilted his head, studying him. “Your flaw. You didn’t dodge. You couldn’t.”

  A pause.

  Then, softly, the man sighed. “Perceptive.”

  The tension between them shifted.

  Not broken. But altered.

  The man stepped back, lowering his blade ever so slightly. “This is your first lesson,” he said. “The Mandate is not a gift. It is not a blessing. It is a burden. And those who carry it are all cursed.”

  Ren flexed his fingers, feeling the hunger gnawing at the edges of his soul.

  He already knew that much.

  The man studied him for a long moment. Then, at last, he straightened.

  “Live, boy.”

  With that, he turned and vanished into the night.

  The rain swallowed his presence like he had never been there at all.

  Ren let out a slow breath. The hunger still throbbed inside him, but he ignored it, tilting his head toward the stormy sky.

  “…Cursed, huh?”

  His grin sharpened.

  “Sounds about right.”