Something had struck one of their own. The last time Jin-Woo had heard a sound like that, he had made it and this one hadn’t come from him. This was a fist that had broken through his blood.

“… Captain … @seongjinwoo.bsky.social ”

A lieutenant dared whisper.

#𝗔𝗛𝗝𝗜𝗡 / #𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗪

⠀⠀
“ must my eyes deceive me .. this is unexpected .. as I do believe you are suppose to be dead. ”

Gaze unwavering as if truly in disbelief.

⠀⠀
Visuals blur as a shadow figure moves with purpose ˏˏ practically unseen as he raises an attack directly towards her head. ⧼ 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞! ⧽ and her axe collides against the blow in an act to shield. ⧽

⠀⠀
Yet alone she was not ˏˏ another seems to beckon the same desire of solitude in the darkness surrounding her home. This shifting figure was .. difficult to place which normally would cause for concern. ⧽

⠀⠀
Most tend to be driven mad by the silence solitude brought ˏˏ however she welcomed it with open arms. A grand clock hanging on the distance wall offering soft tics to cut through. ⧽

constellation dotting the ground. this one weapon has history, moreover, it has changed the course of one ( AUG/06 ). with instantaneous precision, he aims to sever the target’s head as his opening assault. @sorcerermeimei.bsky.social

“ there. ” ` SHATTER —— ! through window pane, white noise reverberates, scattering shards of glass into uncountable crystallized fragments as time came to a crawl before they hit the floor. floating in the wind — the sound of his motioning to retrieve his blade is obscured by the falling

through bushes, his steps are hushed. but the windows reflect his shadow like a phantom cloaked in nightmare, akin to those things made-manifest at the corner of your eyes deep within imagination, the fear of being watched in your personal sanctuary.

the smothering influence of nostalgia drew him closer, in the art of invisibility, he moves soundless under the sinful steed of black. ever-so swiftly — around the premises of this familiar home swallowed by the darkness. who exactly did this house belong to? his presence continued to stutter

how uncanny that the winds brought him here. at the end of orchards a house loomed in a thick expanse of fog that spanned as far as toji’s eyes could see. in the vague distance, with it served as a moment of retrospection.

a night without worry … until it was.

varies thoughts take it's formulation within the assassin’s mind, his concurrent objectives and aims were presumingly unknown — yet his feet piloted almost as if it were walking a path based off muscle memory. déjà vu some would call it, in a sense.

society. 𝓝ow, in the heart of shinjuku’s sprawling maze of passageways, nightfalls and so it begins. a dead man’s affairs to be put in order, no — this is the rationality of a hired assassin back from the grave. memory gives moments immortality, putting something at work in his soul

but we have learned that time is more fluid than believed, with each fit of his intensity colliding with the proverbial pine-box of a casket and out crawled disgust, as hell uproots — a sinister reintroduction to the zenin’s faulty product who turned against ‘his own’ — the reject of jujutsu’s