Shinobu sat surrounded by stacks of books and scattered notes, her focus unwavering as she carefully mixed vials of poison meant to destroy demons. The soft scratching of her pen was the only sound in the quiet room.

Then—something shifted.

A faint noise broke the stillness. Her hand paused mid-stroke, instincts flaring. Rising from her chair, she turned toward the window, the unease in her chest growing heavier with each second.

There, framed by the dim moonlight, stood a figure cloaked in black upon the windowsill. A faint glint of metal caught her eye — a knife.

In that instant, Shinobu’s expression hardened. Danger had arrived.