EPISODE 7 – SCENE 5: THE BIRTH OF A COMMUNITY

Location: The future site of the Shinsengumi Oni capital – Between the Macchabée Forest and the Black River Gorge.

The camp was alive. Under the towering trees, villagers moved with purpose, preparing meals over open fires. Makeshift tables crafted from salvaged wood held pots bubbling with stew, their aroma rich with spic-es and meat. Laughter echoed between tents, mingling with the scent of smoke and fresh earth.

What had been a camp of survivors now felt like the heartbeat of something new.

William stood at the edge, leaning against a jagged rock, arms crossed, silent. Watching. Observing. The shift was undeniable. The broken fragments of scattered survivors were stitching themselves into some-thing stronger, something real.

He could feel it.

Haku sat casually on a tree trunk, teasing Nero with a grin.

— Haku: "Do you sleep with your katanas? People might start thinking you're married to them."

Nero, ever calm, responded with a simple shrug.

— Nero: "Discipline is my wife. Unlike some, I don't waste my time on distractions."

— Haku (grinning): "Cold as ever."

The exchange drew soft laughter from nearby villagers. The tension of past battles, of pain and loss, was dissolving—replaced by something simpler. Warmer.

Varisa and Akar argued over the best way to preserve meat, their debate light and filled with friendly rivalry. Felicia handed out bowls of food, her smile soft, a motherly warmth in her movements. Even Kassim, though distant, watched with a faint smile, his usual hardness dulled by the atmosphere.

And then, as though the night itself held its breath, a voice broke through the hum of laughter.

— Old Woman: "No real unity is forged without ritual."

All eyes turned. A hunched figure stepped into the firelight. The old woman's face was lined with age, but her gaze was sharp, alive. She held a bottle of rum in one hand, wooden cups in the other.

— Old Woman (grinning): "Let's drink. To this new beginning."

She poured the rum, dark liquid catching the firelight. One by one, they accepted the offering, the cup passing from hand to hand.

And then, with deliberate slowness, the old woman sat on a rock, her gaze heavy with unseen truths.

— Old Woman: "Do you wonder why this land is nothing but ruin and war? Why the Nexus are so fiercely coveted?"

The question fell into silence, sinking deep.

She leaned forward, her voice dropping into something older, deeper. A whisper of forgotten legends.

— Old Woman: "Long ago, before darkness claimed the skies, this world belonged to the will of the Gods… and their opposites."

A chill ran through the group. Faces turned towards the fire, their laughter extinguished.

— Old Woman: "Seven deities and their seven counterparts. Light and shadow, locked in an endless war. Creation and destruction. And when their battle ended, the world was shattered… broken beyond repair. Only fragments remained."

Her fingers brushed over the rim of her cup.

— Old Woman: "The Nexus are those fragments. Primal remnants of power. And as long as they remain in greedy hands, this world will never know peace."

The flames crackled, casting shadows that danced like old ghosts.

— Old Woman: "But there is one… one touched by the Moon, who can change the cycle."

The words hung heavy, sinking into the depths of silence. Some exchanged glances. Others stared into the fire, as if it held answers.

And then her gaze locked onto William. Sharp. Piercing. Certain.

— Old Woman: "And I believe that one… is already among us."

A cold breath swept through the camp. The fire dimmed, shadows deepening. Eyes turned to William. Watching. Questioning. Waiting.

William didn't move. His heart thundered, but his face was stone. Impassive. Unyielding.

He didn't need to ask what she meant. He already knew.

The panther. The power he carried. The shadow he wore.

But why now? Why this prophecy?

Ash chuckled, breaking the tension.

— Ash (mocking): "You say that every time, old woman."

Felicia added quickly, trying to keep the mood light.

— Felicia: "Yeah, Madam Leyland. We get it. You like your legends."

But the old woman didn't laugh. She didn't blink. She just watched William with a knowing gaze.

— Old Woman: "I've seen it. In dreams. The shadow of the panther."

The words hit harder than any sword.

William's hands curled into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to stay still, to breathe. To control the burn beneath his skin.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Intense.

And then, William smiled. A calm, cold curve of his lips.

— William (softly): "A panther, huh? Interesting."

Iris hovered close, her glow shifting to a soft pink. Her voice chimed lightly, breaking the moment.

— Iris: "Warning, Master. Ego levels increasing."

Laughter broke the tension, scattering the weight of the prophecy like dust.

Haku grinned, arms crossed.

— Haku: "I can confirm. Definitely an ego problem."

Even Kassim chuckled under his breath.

But beneath the humor, something had shifted. Something deeper.

Because whether the prophecy was real or not, whether destiny had chosen William or if he was carving his own path—none of it mattered.

What mattered was that they believed.

And belief? Belief was power.

William's gaze swept the camp. Faces that were once uncertain, now filled with fire. With hope. With pur-pose.

It didn't matter if the prophecy was truth or shadow. What mattered was that tonight, they stood as one.

Ready to build. Ready to fight. Ready to follow.

And William?

He was ready to lead.