The rain never reached the floor of the Rashomon Valley, evaporating against the cursed heat of the Akatsuchi invaders. From the jagged peak of the Shadow's Reach, Kaito looked down at the burning village. His skin was pale as porcelain, mapped with black, pulsing veins that betrayed the Shadow Essence rotting him from the inside out. He was an Aragami, an undead warrior born of darkness, destined to lose his mind to the void if he could not break the curse.

Kaito checked the strap of his sword. Tonight, he was not hunting for blood. He was hunting for the soul of his clan.

He had not cured the curse entirely, but he had bought his people time.

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His target was the central pagoda. Inside, the enemy general held a pure Light stone, a relic stolen from the Aragami that possessed the power to reverse the shadow sickness.

He was losing his grip. The dark essence inside him clawed to get out, begging him to unleash lethal, uncontrollable chaos. Kaito closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, centering himself. I control the shadow. The shadow does not control me.

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