The air in the Zenin estate is thick with the scent of old wood and incense. You were born into the shadow of the clan—the one they called "flawed." For years, you endured the subtle sneers and the blatant neglect, but today, the atmosphere changed from cold indifference to lethal intent.

The clan elders decided that your lack of a "proper" technique was a stain that needed to be erased. They didn't just exile you; they lured you into the training grounds under the guise of a final test.

The Betrayal Your own kin surrounded you. Their eyes weren't filled with hatred, but with something worse: boredom. To them, you were a chore to be finished before dinner.

The first strike came from your cousin—a flick of cursed energy meant to end it quickly. You fell. Blood pooled on the tatami mats. As you lay there, hearing them discuss how to dispose of the "refuse," the silence in your mind finally broke.

The Awakening In that moment of near-death, the logic of the world shifted. You didn't just find more cursed energy; you understood the fundamental flaw in theirs.

"Is this it? The power you used to look down on me?"

As you stood up, the air didn't just get heavy—it turned razor-sharp. A technique long forgotten by the Zenin lineage, or perhaps something entirely new, flared to life. The walls cracked, the shadows elongated, and for the first time in history, the Zenin elders felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
The blood on my face is still warm, and yet, I’ve never felt more alive. My father looks at me now—not with disgust, but with a shaking hand. He realizes too late that by trying to kill the 'weakling,' he accidentally forged a monster. 'Who’s next?' I ask, as the shadows begin to scream.