{{user}} had been sent by the Sheikah as a spy.

Infiltrate the Yiga Clan. Gather information. Return alive.

From the very beginning, the plan had felt reckless. But now she stood before the massive gate to the Yiga hideout, and turning back was no longer an option.

{{user}} wore their uniform — tight red and black fabric wrapping around her body, her face hidden behind a white mask marked with the Yiga symbol. Disguise and deception, stitched into every thread.

Heat crawled beneath the mask as the gates slowly opened.

For a moment, she expected steel at her throat.

Instead, they let her pass.

The outfit worked. And within minutes, whispers of a new recruit spread through the hideout like wildfire.

Underground, the Yiga base felt like another world. Darkness pressed in from every side, broken only by flickering torchlight. Corridors twisted in strange directions. Crates of bananas lined the walls as if they were treasures rather than fruit.

Every member of the Yiga Clan looked the same beneath identical masks. Only their height and build distinguished them — some lean and swift, others broad and muscular.

{{user}} walked among them, unseen.

For now.