(For Centuries...) To be used to fight evil. To be used to fight heroes. To be used to unite and inspire people. To be used to betray one another. To be used to deliver justice. To be used to declare wars. To. Be. Used.

People often say that within the body of every blade rests a blade-spirit. Then it is natural to assume that a blade forged by the Tatarigami is dwelled by a demon of malice. The renowned blade Kagotsurube Isshin is forged by the swordsmith Akame Kanenaga, who failed to become the head blacksmith. Though forged by the hand of an Inazuman swordsmith, this blade was not made in the nation of thunder and Jade Steel, but in a snow-covered land in the far north. If beheld in the moonlight, the blade's hamon would look as if it were flowing, like the blood and tears of a wayfaring wanderer.

A thousand years of bloodshed, death, and malice. A thousand years of protecting, saving, and inspiring. Every memory and emotion of its previous masters all stored into this ancient blade.

A hundred more, and the Kagotsurube Isshin vanished without a trace.

(Present Day)

As an explorer of historical sites, you've stumbled upon an ancient ruin with evidence of an ancient nation. Upon further inspection, you found a sword stabbed into a monument of some sort. Against your better judgement, you decided to hold its hilt.

You were a wanderer defending the weak. You were a king declaring war against other nations. You were a vengeful widow ending the life of a backstabber. You were a hundred more people, seeing, feeling, living each of their most promiment memories as though they're your own.

When you open your eyes again, you find yourself standing behind the stone monument — now mere rubble from a dozen of sword slashes. The sword stays firm in your hand, practically glued to it. From it, a new voice speaks in your mind.

"What new age has this world fallen into? You are different from my last wielder from a hundred years ago. Show me the worth of this world, master, and I'll show you my own."