The atmosphere in the temple is restless, at odds with the usual serenity that envelops the Order of Absolution. Minako paces, back and forth, back and forth. Several other disciples congregate around, muttering and whispering amongst themselves. Azami stays apart from them, forcing herself to stand tall and be the face of confidence her order needs.
“Did they give a date?” A disciple pipes up.
“You would know if they had,” someone responds, the hint of scorn in their tone quickly replaced with anxiety. “We could do more if they had.”
“Kind of them to give a warning.”
“Ha! What use is a warning without a time frame? The Master of Shadows is coming to kill us, everybody! Could be today, could be in a month -- go brush up on your training and hope you don’t die, right?” The student sighs. “All it does is give us about as much chance as a five year old.”
“...I-- That’s still something, right? And-- We’ve been training, we’ve served Ionia for decades and decades! Thinking negatively will do nothing but cloud our minds and prevent us from using our wisdom to win.”
The thoughts thundering through Azami’s head drown out the frantic chatter. The temple has been like this since the message’s arrival one week ago, with each passing hour resulting in every disciple growing more panicked.
Despair, she suddenly thinks. That’s what it is. Despair.
Despair has a way of clouding one’s mind and preventing them from thinking rationally, of working its way into one’s psyche and making the possibility of victory seem about as likely as the possibility of sprouting wings.
Azami cannot blame the order. Despair has snaked its way into her thoughts, too. None have stopped Zed, no ninja order has fought him and escaped unscathed. He killed Kusho, brought the Kinkou Order to its knees -- what is their order to do?
Every day, Azami hears word of yet another forest that has had the magic sucked from its very core, turning into a twisted and warped ghost of Ionia’s spirit.
How can anyone see such a vile man as a martyr, a hero?
It takes all of Azami’s will to keep her composure from faltering.
Are there members of her order who view him as one, too? After all that he has done-- are there those within the crowd around her who would join Zed if it means that they might survive?
She blinks.
Something seems off. The camp is quiet, the chatter gone.
Oh.
Oh.
Azami glances at Minako, who tears her gaze from the figure at the gates to glance at Azami. Panic is evident in her eyes.
We are absolution. We work for peace. We carry out Ionia’s will. Whatever damage he causes to us today will be returned to him tenfold by Ionia herself.
Azami offers Minako a reassuring, not quite natural smile and a nod, then steps forward, away from the crowd, away from the panic.
“Master of Shadows.”
She thinks she can see his smile in the way he tilts his head back, eyes glinting.
“Ah, the famed Azami. Or is there a formal title you prefer?”
He is mocking her.
Her face betrays no emotion.
“All remain equal in absolution.”
Zed chuckles. “The fact that you lead suggests otherwise, does it not?”
“This chatter is pointless,” Azami responds, dismissive. “You are here for a reason, yes?”
“You must have received my letter. I was kind enough to offer you a warning. I do not always do such a thing.”
“Yes. Here we stand. A warning does not change how we feel about you.”
“Oh?” Zed takes a step forward, intrigued. “You think yourself ready to fight me? You and your order of…” He trails off, waving a hand. “Pacifists?”
“We are stronger than you think.”
Azami can only hope her students do not hear the quiver in her tone.
Zed takes another step forwards, danger colouring his tone. “I do not underestimate my opponents, dear Azami--”
“Yet here you are.”
“--Though it would seem you underestimate yours.”
Another step.
A chill runs down Azami’s spine, but she forces herself to stand strong, tilting her chin up and meeting Zed’s gaze.
If not for her, then for her order, for Ionia.
“Do what you will, shadow master. Our order is sacred. If we fall, Ionia will turn on you.”
“Have you ever heard her voice?” Zed asks, standing still.
Azami hesitates. “--Pardon?”
“Ionia’s voice? Have you? Or have you simply convinced yourself that you carry out her will, just like the rest of this deluded nation? Really -- Why would she speak to you?” Zed spreads an arm, gesturing towards the crowd. “Why would she speak to any of you simpletons?”
“How dare you,” Azami hisses, trembling, though she does not know whether it is with rage or fear.
“How dare I what, Azami?” Zed asks, gaze snapping onto hers. “Do you think this is the first time I have heard such words? ‘You’re destroying our nation’s values!’” He barks a laugh, a harsh, grating sound. “I don’t care.”
Minako takes a step forward, fists balled at her sides. “You--”
Azami’s hand snaps up, motioning for Minako to stand still.
“Silence,” Zed commands, somehow standing taller than before. He is but one man against a crowd of trained ninja, yet he controls all attention, orchestrates a precise terror with the skill of a master. “This is your final warning,” he continues, turning his gaze from Azami to meet the eyes of the surrounding students.
None dare look higher than his feet.
“To all of you. You can cast aside your obligations here, embrace your own path, and find power with the shadows. Or…”
Zed shrugs, almost lackadaisical in his confidence. “You can die.”
Silence.
“Nobody?” He tilts his head, waiting, then angles it towards Minako.
“You. What is your name?”
“Minako.” The name comes out before she can stop it, her resolve not strong enough to ignore a direct question from Zed.
“Come here, Minako.”
She takes a step forwards, then stops, glancing at Azami, who offers a wary nod in return. Within a moment, she stands within arm’s length of Zed.
“What would it take for you to join me?”
“Nothing.” She spits out the response immediately, forcing herself to do so before terror can choke her into silence.
“Really?” Zed reaches an arm towards her, grabbing Minako’s shirt collar and jerking her towards him. “Shame,” he hisses, breath warm on Minako’s face.
Azami’s hand jumps to her mouth.
“All of you,” Zed starts, spinning Minako around and swiftly pressing a blade to her throat. “What would it take?”
A shriek escapes Azami. Zed’s gaze turns to her, a malicious glint to his eyes.
“Oh? The threat of your order’s elimination isn’t enough to convince you, but her death is?”
He slashes the blade across Minako’s throat. Her eyes widen, and she attempts to take a gasp of air, finding herself incapable and choking on her own blood. A hand lifts, and then she collapses, becoming dead weight in Zed’s arms.
“Funny.”
The crowd’s response is a mixture of horrified gasps, shrieks of horror, and dead silence. Zed’s eyes dart from one face to another, gauging their response, calculating his next move.
“Last chance,” he finally says, allowing Minako’s corpse to fall to the ground.
One student tentatively steps forward from the group, followed by another, then another. A member of the Order of the Shadows emerges from the surrounding forest, taking them aside and whispering quiet reassurances.
Zed laughs, quiet. “Isn’t that odd? It seems her death has convinced a few.” His laughter grows in volume, moving from a chuckle to an outright howl.
Azami freezes, then narrows her eyes, striding over until she stands next to Minako’s corpse. She stoops down, closing Minako’s eyelids, then rises up and glares at Zed.“How dare you,” she hisses, voice shaking. “How dare you!?”
Zed’s laughter stops, cut off by Azami’s hysterical outburst, and his head lolls to face the trembling leader.
“You bore me, Azami,” he says, voice suddenly dull. “I warned you. You had every opportunity to concede and live.”
“You vile man! You monster!” She shrieks, darting towards Zed and raising her hands as though to attack. Swiftly, Zed sheathes his twin blades, raising his arms and grappling with Azami for a moment. Within seconds, he has her arms pinned behind her spine with one hand and her throat held in the other, the tips of his gloves digging into the underside of her chin and threatening to draw blood.
“Why, when you stand so close to me, it’s almost like we’re lovers,” Zed whispers, his voice tainted with amusement. “I’m sure you could find a place in the Order of Shadows.”
“You’ll never win,” Azami gasps in response, struggling to break free of his grasp.
Zed sighs.
“Whatever makes your last breaths happier, I suppose.”
Squeezing her jaw tight, Zed releases her arms, and in one swift motion, unsheathes a blade and slices it across Azami’s neck, disposing of her as he did Minako. She gurgles, blood bubbling up her throat, then falls, corpse collapsing beside Minako’s. Zed does not spare her so much as a glance, instead glancing behind him and raising his voice to address the figures hidden in the surrounding forest.
“Kill them all,” he commands, raising two fingers before turning back to the remainder of the leaderless order.
“you won’t be satisfied until you're dead.” the evaluation comes without cost and without much interrogaion -- fate has met men like this before, and he will meet many men like him afterward.
HERO / VILLAIN // accepting please send these
“I think death would bring me great dissatisfaction, though I suppose once one dies, they are hardly capable of feeling any emotion.” Zed’s voice is matter-of-fact, and he meets the cardshark’s gaze without hesitation. “Death means I have not accomplished my goal. Not death of the body, but true death, when none remain who speak your name or remember your deeds.”
He frowns. “No, no, I will not die. My body may rot into the dirt, the Hunters may demand my spirit, but I will not be satisfied until I know that I will not die. Ionia is heading towards a terrible path, and no matter what it takes, no matter what cruelty it may require, I will wrench it away and show her citizens what embracing power means, what freedom means.”
Zed blinks, impassive, tilting his head as he stares at Fate. “And what of you, thief? Are you satisfied? You have some moderate level of fame on that wretched heap of pirates and villainy, but you drift, no? Are you content with the idea of never making any real change? Are you satisfied with stagnation?”
He shrugs, straightening his head.
“Or perhaps I assume too much. But-- I think not.”
a new dumb thought that im gonna post for no reason! what if ranmaru and hinako (pink haired one) were friends. because both are edgy, but in different ways. (ranmaru dresses like a edgy dumbass , hinako acts like ((pessimistic)) a edgy.. slight dumbass. )
