one remote Inazuma beach is expectedly quiet. a dark place like a grotto, illuminated by the rays of the setting sun and not a single living soul around. a lonely puppet in white robes and purple veil sits by the shore with his head hanging limply. he draws simple patterns on the sand with a branch, watching how the waves immediately erase it. he woke up today with a premonition that something was going to happen, but what exactly? the Shogun, as always, watched him wistfully in the morning, but said nothing. although it's hard to say "always" - it was the fifth day since his creation, and he didn't even have a name. perhaps Raiden Ei had a hard time imagining things, or she was looking for the best option possible. it was difficult for him to understand her thoughts, and his own, too, with difficulty. then why did endless sadness come over him at night, that the tears themselves imperceptibly rolled out of his eyes? he did not breathe (he didn't know how) and remained motionless, but at the same time he was noticed by his creator and this priestess with fox ears. and she's especially scary, speaks in riddles and smiles at everyone with her purple eyes, though not in his direction. so the puppet boy was left to himself and remained immersed in his thoughts, not seeing that a shadow lurked behind the cold stones, preparing to pounce on him. was it even avoided?