"Captain Shigeyoshi"

February 1st, 2026

South Africa - 5 PM

"Sir."

A muffled voice...

"Sir.."

A muffled voice echoed through the void, distant, like it was calling from underwater.

"Sir..."

It grew clearer, sharper.

"Captain Shigeyoshi."

The voice is now clear...

Ray's eyes opened abruptly. Light silver - piercing and cold like arctic steel, a trait inherited from his mother. His gaze, focused and deadly, darted to the soldier standing beside his cot.

"Captain," the young corporal stood at attention, saluting. "Briefing in ten, sir."

Ray rubbed his face once, sighing quietly. His muscles tensed automatically, as if on command. His senses locked in place.

"Affirmative," he replied, his voice flat and composed.

He stood tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and an intimidating stillness. A presence born of brutal training and silent torment. Ray Shigeyoshi, now 24 years old, was no longer the boy who cried for his mother. That boy was dead.

He left Tokyo at 18, walked out the front door of his father's house without saying goodbye. He sought a future outside the shadow of Shinjo Shigeyoshi.

In America, he found both chaos and clarity. His proficiency in boxing and Jiu-Jitsu, cultivated since he was a child, had not gone unnoticed. In the U.S. Army, Ray thrived. Quiet, deadly, and painfully efficient. A ghost with a human face.

Within a year, he was recruited into Delta Force.

Now, he was Captain Shigeyoshi, commander of Shadow Squad.

The African sun bore down like judgment. The base in northern South Africa was boiling with tension, the air thick with sand and war.

The region had fallen into chaos. A violent military group had seized the capital in a ruthless coup. They called themselves "Matriarch's Promise."

Matriarch's Promise

The name alone sent shivers down Ray's spine when he first read it.

"Matriarch's Promise" was not just a militia - it was a cult. Built on strict obedience, religious fervor, and violence. Their leader? Unknown. A woman, said to be veiled, never seen in public, but worshipped like a goddess.

As Ray walked into the war room, maps, satellite photos, and coded comms buzzed with quiet panic. A dozen officers and soldiers sat or stood with focus and tension. The hum of the generator underscored every word. The major stepped forward.

"Captain Shigeyoshi."

Ray saluted.

"At ease. Let's get into it."

A projector clicked to life, showing a map of South Africa's interior. Red lines spread across key locations: power plants, government buildings, airports.

"We lost contact with a recon team outside of Nelspruit last night. We believe they encountered a Matriarch's Promise cell."

The major paced slowly.

"Our mission is to locate them, extract any survivors, and confirm intelligence about the cult's expansion into Mozambique."

He clicked the remote.

Images appeared: burned villages, bodies strung from trees, armed women with veiled faces and fanatical eyes.

"This group doesn't negotiate. They don't take prisoners."

Ray stared at the screen, unmoved.

"Expect combat. Expect traps. Expect civilians being used as leverage."

Then the major turned off the projector.

"Captain, your squad moves out in four hours. Gear up. Prep your men. And..."

He paused, stepping closer.

"There's one more thing."

Ray raised an eyebrow.

"You received a call. From Tokyo."

Ray's gaze hardened. "From who?"

The major hesitated, as if weighing his words.

"Best if you found out for yourself."

Ray blinked slowly, confused. In his four years of service, no one outside military command ever contacted him directly.

Was it his father? Doubtful. Shinjo would rather die than acknowledge him.

Was it someone from the past?

He tried to shake it off.

But a whisper crawled in the back of his mind. A voice. A memory.

Silver eyes. A queenly smile.

No.

He suppressed it. Forced it down. Packed it with the rest of the pain.

"Where's the call coming from?"

"Secure line. Communications room."

Ray nodded and left the room.

The sun continued to glare, but inside Ray's chest, the cold crept in. The name of the militia echoed again.

Matriarch's Promise.

That word—Matriarch.

He clenched his jaw.

He opened the steel door to the comms room. A red phone sat on the desk. It was still blinking.

Waiting.

Waiting for him.

He took a breath. Then picked up the receiver.

"Captain Shigeyoshi speaking."

A pause.

Then, a woman's voice. Calm. Elegant. Angelic.

"Is this Ray Shigeyoshi?."

Soft.

Warm.

Like silk and honey.

But unfamiliar to him.

"Yes"

Silence.

Then came the whisper.

"Your father is dying."