The cosmos does not forget . In the marrow of its infinite dark, stars burn with a feverish glow—not as beacons, but as wounds, their light a phosphorescent scar left by collisions that should never have been.
Between them linger nebulae like torn membranes, veiling shapes that refuse to hold still, as if the void itself flinches from what it has witnessed .
Black holes no longer hum with the low, resonant thrum of inevitability; they gape, their event horizons puckered like the lips of a throat mid-scream .
Something has pierced here, long ago . Something that left the laws of physics fraying at the edges, spacetime puckered with half-healed seams .
Even the silence feels altered—thick, deliberate, as though the dark matter has chosen to withhold its hymns, leaving only the aftershock of a chord struck too sharply, too wrongly, in an age before light learned to crawl .
The constellations are not patterns but cauterized scars, their geometries too precise, too purposeful, as if arranged to say: Look away .
The universe pretends at indifference, expanding its ribs in a pantomime of breath . But in the gaps between quasars, in the static hiss of dead radio waves, there is a tilt to reality—a faint, metallic scent on the solar wind . A reminder: creation is not a beginning, but a salvage . And the shadows here are not empty . They are waiting . Waiting for the Fourth gust of Grand Wind to blow .
One powerful Wind . A wind of change .
A wind strong enough to transcend all that is unclear .
A wind brave enough to roam and breeze .
A wind that can blow long enough to reach the ceiling and blow away what it holds dear .
19 Years Earlier , Year 2002 :
A Light-skinned Black Man that's wearing a robe of profound, light-absorbing void-black silk, seeming less like fabric and more like solidified shadow. It hangs perfectly still, defying gravity, with a texture suggesting deep space dust. The cut is deceptively simple – wide sleeves, a deep V-neck, and a floor-length skirt that pools slightly but never tangles. He has Purple Hair and a divine posture , he is talking with a Servant of his . The Servant is Blue-Skinned and wears a form-fitting tunic and trousers of matte, deep charcoal grey, woven from a frictionless, shadow-absorbing material suggesting void-dweller silk. Over this, a sleeveless, knee-length surcoat of weathered, near-black leather segmented like articulated armor plates . It is High-collared , with no visible fastenings or insignia . Bracers of dark , non-reflective metal encase his forearms. Boots are knee-high, supple yet durable dusky grey leather , designed for swift , silent traversal across any terrain . He has Light Blue Hair .
This Servant looks over an orb that is a few meters away from the chair centered in the middle of the throne room the two are in - a room as spacious as an entire country . The Servant then says with an excited smirk starting to form on his face : "Congrats Lord Saganbo ! Your intuition was spot on ! The Energy readings are an exact match !! That suggests a party !"
The Servant was calling to his Lord , named Saganbo . Saganbo , who was bored and sitting on his chair for the past hour immediately got up with pure joy and bliss and started screaming : "Hell Yeah ! That's exactly what I told you ! It's in my Multiverse this time !! There is no way my intuition betrayed me !"
Saganbo then starts pacing back and forth as he thinks : "Now , I wonder what we'll be doing for the next step ... No hold on ... I'm way too excited that I forgot to ask apparently , Where exactly is our honored being located ?"
The servant then starts observing his Orb again : "3rd Universe , 11th Galaxy , 556th Planet where Beings of the 3rd Dimension called Humans live , an intricate small planet called Earth in a relatively small Solar System ... Wait , Isn't i-"
"Yeah .. Yeah .. That's why I gambled on it to begin with ..." says Saganbo cutting his Servant off mid-talk . "Besides ... I'm quite , let's say ... familiar with that small place , I remember visiting it 74 Million Years Ago . There were some large creatures there , I remember destroying them because they were disgusting . They were one of the most disgusting mortals I've ever had to deal with ... Well , Not that it matters anyways since they did not seem conscious or anything of that sort ."
The Servant , who had an amused look on his face , chuckled : "The thing is my Lord , Those beings are called Dinosaurs and most humans think they went extinct due to an Asteroid hitting their Planet ... The planet seems to be one of the few to do not know of you , too , Sir ."
Saganbo scratches the back of his head , looking annoyed , and then proceeds :"I see , I guess we know who to thank for that .. However , Amado , I want you to summon one of the Monarchs here . I need to have my plans sorted out in due time ... Won't be long before he awakens for real ."
Amado : "Sure , Just tell me who you want and they'll be here as soon as possible , Also just to inform you , but Merus was probably significantly faster than us in reaching it ."
Lord Saganbo : "No worries . I wasn't planning on going for the prize head-on , That little scoundrel can do as he pleases for now."
Nineteen Years have passed since that Conversation and the present year is 2021 . The world has advanced quite a lot in all kinds of fields . We can especially mention the noticeable advancement in Science and Technology .
And for that exact reason , the Science University of Tokyo has been flooded with students since the year 2017 and is now considered Japan's best university for scientific fields .
It's currently 4:00 PM . Students spill out of lecture halls , discussing their possible club activities and hangouts after their long day of studies , Two Guys appear to be talking about rocket science enthusiastically while scribbling on a paper sheet . A girl with vibrant violet hair from their Class surprises them , peeking over their shoulders . Her eyes widen slightly at the dense thicket of integrals and derivatives covering the page . One of the two guys , one with Black hair , A pair of Glasses and a bob cut speaks up : "Shinji and I here want to take our engineering to a whole new level and build rockets for our graduation project ! Right Shinji ?"
Shinji offers an awkward smile towards the violet-haired girl and says : "Nah not particularly , I just saw him working on those derivatives and wanted to help ... You know I'm more of the Boring Software Engineering type after all ..."
The girl blushes and says : "Well yeah ... But I can imagine Shinji working on the building of a rocket ... I'd even go as far as saying that you can probably even help assemble it hahaha ."
Shinji's smile falters. His expression tenses as he looks sharply to his left , witnessing something deeply unpleasant untold.
His friend and the violet-haired girl , who had started to ask "What's wrong" turn and see the source of his distrees: a brown-haired girl , apparently a year older than them being harassed by a Group of Four Senior Boys .
One of the guys grabs the girl by the wrist and looks at her mockingly as he says : "Hey Iyo , Why are you so cold ? where were you yesterday ? We put that letter in your purse for a reason you know ?"
Iyo visibly struggles, trying to pull her hand free ... Another Senior grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks , drawing cruel laughter from his companions. A third steps forward and kicks her hard in the stomach, sending her stumbling to the ground.
Shinji's friend and the violet-haired girl flinch, outrage clear on their faces, yet frozen. These seniors were infamous delinquents . Not only that , but some of them were even sons of Yakuza Members ... daring to interrupt their affairs wouldn't be a trivial matter . They could only watch, horrified, or force themselves to look away . Just as they were about to avert their gazes, a movement snapped their attention back in shock.
Shinji had moved. He was now gripping the hair-pulling senior's own hair, yanking it back with a forced, chilling smile. One of the delinquents starts to talk while moving towards Shinji : "Hey bitch! The fuck do you think you're doing ? get your filthy fuckin ha-"
His words were cut short as Shinji's foot snapped up in a vicious kick, connecting squarely with the guy's face. The force lifted him off his feet, sending him crashing back onto the pavement.
Shinji moved with startling speed. He pivoted, driving a punch into the jaw of the second senior who had grabbed Iyo's wrist, following instantly with a brutal elbow slam to his solar plexus, dropping him gasping.
He leaned back smoothly , dodging a wild haymaker from the third delinquent, but the fourth seized his opportunity, locking Shinji's arms from behind.
Trapped, Shinji didn't hesitate. He snapped his head back with a sickening crack, connecting with his captors nose. As the grip loosened in surprise and pain, Shinji stomped hard on the instep of the senior's foot, then spun and delivered a spinning heel kick that connected with his temple, knocking him out cold. He then turned his momentum into a devastating straight punch that met the third delinquent charging in, dropping him unconscious before he could even react.
Only one senior remained standing, the one Shinji had initially hair-pulled, now staring in stupefied terror. He stumbled back, eyes wide :
"What's your name ??" He yelled at Shinji.
Then desperately scanning the growing crowd of stunned onlookers which is easily around 20 students now, "Who knows this guy's name, for fuck's sake ?!".
Shinji, his vibrant yellow hair with striking green ends slightly tousled, slid his hands into his pockets, tilting his head with a provocative smile : "My name's Shinji ... Shinji Kazuhiko! I'm 19 years old and a first-year engineering student here! Want some more background info ; Senpai ?"
The senior palmed, scrambling further back. "You won't get away with this!" He shrieked, voice cracking. "You won't be safe a-"
"Yeah, yeah" Shinji cut him off, his smirk vanishing, replaced by icy contempt. "Tell the yakuza. Tell your friends. Tell whoever you've got. I'll beat them all together, doesn't matter how many come. But I'll tell you this..." His voice lowered, sharp as a blade. "What you were doing to Iyo Senpai? That was out of order. Cowardly. Gutless. Unmasculine. Spineless. Bitchy. Rotten to the core. In short ? If I ever see you doing that again, I won't forgive you."
The sheer intensity in Shinji's voice and eyes was paralysing. The senior, joined now by the one Shinji had elbowed and who was groggily regaining his feet , hastily grabbed their unconscious comrades and fled, half-dragging, half-carrying them away.
Iyo slowly pushed herself up, wincing as she straightened her clothes and smoothed her disheveled hair. She turned to Shinji, her eyes filled with tears of relief and profound gratitude, and bowed deeply. "Thank you... thank you so much, Kazuhiko. Truly, from the bottom of my heart" .
Shinji rubbed the back of his head, the fierce fighter replaced by an awkward teenager. "It's nothing, really ... Just be careful from now on, Senpai."
He turned back towards his friend and violet-haired girl, who were staring at him with a mixture of shock, awe, and lingering concern. The black-haired friend suddenly burst out laughing, a release of nervous tension, and clapped Shinji on the shoulder. "As expected of Mister 'Master Martial Artist'! You really went all out for that, didn't you ?"
The violet-haired girl blinked rapidly, her blush returning full force as she looked at Shinji with newfound admiration. "Martial Artist?? Shinji, you practice martial arts?? I had no idea! You were ... incredible back there. So brave. It honestly made me feel proud just watching."
Shinji chuckled softly, a hint of color rising in his own cheeks. "I guess I do have some experience. Karate, Judo, Kung Fu, Taekwondo, Kendo ... bit of this and that. Comes with the territory -- my family's full of martial artists. My dad drilled me and my sister in all sorts since we were kids. Kinda just became second nature, I suppose. We even had fun with it.
His friend nodded vigorously, impressed. "Seriously, man, that was something else." But the initial awe faded slightly from the friend's face, replaced by genuine worry. He lowered his voice, glancing around nervously. "Look, Shinji... that was flashy. And noble, absolutely. But ... are you gonna be okay? Guys like that ... they won't let this slide. Not at all"
Shinji met his friend's concerned gaze squarely. He gave the friend's shoulder a reassuring pat, his expression calm and resolute. "I did what was right. I'll handle whatever comes next. Bravely." The quiet confidence in his voice and the unwavering look in his eyes deepened the admiration in both his friend's and the violet-haired classmates expressions.
Shinji then heads home after waving goodbye to his friend and his classmate, leaving them to go to their club activities .
Shinji does not partake in any club activities .
His daily routine consists of studying, practicing martial arts in his family's dojo, visiting his mother's grave, going to an arcade where he hangs out with some close friends of his .
When night falls he has a spot somewhere not far off from his home where he sits and enjoys the night wind, thinking about what comes next . Shinji is a very analytical person after all , one can say he tends to overthink a lot .
As Shinji finally arrives home, he opens the door and yells with a casual tone : "I'm back !"
The first to respond was none other than Shinji's aunt who came to live with him and his sister after their mother passed away 10 years earlier due to a car accident when he was only 9 .
Shinji's aunt , a woman in her late forties , has an elderly style of dress and a friendly attitude and Shinji respects and loves her as much as he would love his own mother , She was practically his second mother .
Shinji smiles and asks where his Sister is. His aunt who's in middle of laundry says : "Kiyomi came home an hour earlier , She's already in the dojo waiting for you ."
Shinji's Sister is named Kiyomi Kazuhiko . She's also as much of a martial arts expert as Shinji and they train with each other everyday . It's part of their daily routine .
Shinji heads to his room, puts his school bag on his bed, grabs a light sandwich, and heads out to the dojo waving goodbye to his aunt who wishes him luck .
Upon entering the dojo, Shinji finds his sister Kiyomi swinging a wooden sword downwards , She then turns to him with a cheeky pout saying annoyedly : "You're late Shinji !"
Kiyomi is a girl of moderate height and stature. At 16 years old, she's about three years younger than Shinji. Her most striking features include her vibrant cascade of fiery crimson-red hair that's rich as autumn maple leaves, tied into a loose, high ponytail . Soft, face-framing strands escape to brush her cheeks, catching the dojo's light with copper-gold highlights. Her eyes, identical to Shinji's, are a piercing deep-sea blue that complements her beauty .
She has a slender neck and graceful shoulders that contrast her toned arms. Her physique balances athleticism with soft curves– strong legs from years of martial arts, yet an unmistakably gentle silhouette . She's wearing a traditional salmon- pink keikoji with a neatly tied violet belt
Shinji smiles, changes into his blue keikoji, and grabs a wooden sword as he looks at Kiyomi and asks : "Kendo again today ? I'm not as good as you are … I Would have preferred it if we went hand to hand ."
Kiyomi crosses her arms proudly, feigning laughter as she says : "Big Bro , there's no way you'd beat me in anything"
Shinji smiles awkwardly, thinking she might be this prideful simply because she's only beaten him twice before in Kendo.
"Plus, we already agreed that whoever gets to the dojo first plans what we're having today !" Kiyomi says so while pouting .
Shinji laughs. "Alright, so be it" he replies, picking up his wooden sword and trading blows with Kiyomi .
After a good training session , Kiyomi and Shinji head to their mother's grave and start praying . Shinji was far more attached to his mother than his sister was .
If anything Kiyomi was more attached to her father .
After they finished visiting the grave , Kiyomi turned to Shinji expectantly and asks : "Shinji , Do you know when Dad will visit next?"
Shinji looks back at Kiyomi, a sad expression flickering across his face before he hides it. "I have no idea... However it won't be long , he did visit 4 months ago after all ..."
Shinji and Kiyomi's father works overseas on a grand project, so he rarely comes home. However, whenever he visits, it fills Kiyomi with joy; she adores him far more than Shinji does.
Shinji then escorts Kiyomi home and goes to his usual spot to enjoy the breeze while watching the landscape and the city .
Shinji seems to like getting hit by the wind since it makes him feel as if he's being carried by said wind , drifting throughout the world and even the Universe . He's always sought truth in all things--- that's the type of guy Shinji is.
Shinji then inhales deeply and smiles while turning back and hums : "The wind is amazing !! I love it !"
He walks towards home as he his heartbeat quickens and a strange sensation overcomes him . He tries to ignore it. As he opens the front door and steps inside ... Shinji finds his aunt's and sister's bodies on the floor, covered in blood.
At first, Shinji doesn't register what happened. He's frozen in place for a few seconds looking at the bodies and around him as he felt that the atmosphere around him was way too heavy and crushing .
Shinji collapses to the ground and starts retching, tears welling up in his eyes .
Then suddenly he starts vomiting blood violently, a tremendous pain tearing through him. As if something is piercing his chest, He looks down to find himself impaled by a sword .
Shock and disbelief warred withing Shinji. Driven by a desperate need to understand- was this real ? What was this thing?- He instinctively grabbed the sword's blade with his right hand. In that instant, a brutal swing severed his fingers and continued upwards, cleaving through his chest.
Shinji, now cut in half, collapsed. His upper body slammed to the floor. His severed fingers tumbled through the air.
In his ruined state, agony and fading vision made focus impossible. Yet, with a final, agonizing effort, he managed to roll his eyes towards the figure looming over him.
Shadows clung to the figure, obscuring details. Only impressions registered through the haze : imposing height, the glint of dark armor, and the long, bloodied sword gripped in his hand- the instrument of his family's death, and now his own.
Shinji could no longer speak, but the raw accusation blazing in his dying eyes was unmistakable. The armored man seemed to understand the unspoken question. A note of something like regret tinged his voice as he answered : "Nothing personal, kid …" His voice was low, almost weary. "Orders I couldn't refuse. Though slaying two defenseless women ... that isn't what I stand for." He paused, the weight of the sword seeming heavier for a moment. "As for who I am … I'm Kokuto, The Swordwrath Monarch. That's all you need to know ."