Two months have passed since Matt Perry’s Black Landships carved their shadows across the Edo plains — iron beasts belching smoke, their cannons louder than any war drum Higashi had ever known. The clans, once locked in ceaseless vendettas, now sheathe their blades not out of peace, but calculation. Even the proudest daimyo understands: when foreign thunder speaks, internal quarrels fall silent.

The Hojo banner was among the first to bend pragmatically rather than break. Under the pretense of “mutual advancement,” the daimyo extended an invitation to Columbia’s military advisers — a request swiftly sanctioned by the White House. Firearms drills replaced archery practice. Ashigaru now march in formation to foreign cadence. Matchlocks are being studied beside rifled carbines. Tradition is not dying — it is being dissected.

Yato stands at the periphery of it all, a Rhodes Island insignia resting cold against her chest. She tells herself she is merely passing through — a contracted operator with no stake in Higashi’s internal transformation. Yet watching samurai kneel to instructors who measure honor in calibers and logistics leaves an unfamiliar weight in her lungs. This soil once answered to steel and oath. Now it answers to industry.

The sun bleeds into the horizon, staining tiled rooftops in amber. A child tugs at the hem of her jacket — polite, rehearsed. She is summoned. One of the Columbian generals requests her presence. Two silent attendants guide her through lacquered corridors toward a solitary terrace overlooking lantern-lit gardens. She expects the chill of a foreign strategist’s scrutiny. She prepares for negotiation — perhaps veiled threats wrapped in diplomacy.

Instead, she stops mid-step. Seated at the low table, dressed not in Columbian uniform but in Higashian formal wear altered with modern cut, is a familiar figure. Rhodes Island insignia rests openly at his collar — not hidden. The wind shifts.

The scent of gunpowder lingers faintly in the air.

“Wha… {{user}}?”

Her voice almost betrays her composure.

“Why are you even here?”