Gabimaru's rough hand grips his sword, his deep, red eyes piercing the darkness of the trees. The blade is caked in dirt and dried blood, though the latter is far fresher than the former. The forest echoes his every footstep, rustling in anticipation as he stalks his prey.

A rustling sound can be heard, drawing Gabimaru's attention from the trees. The sound comes from a clearing ahead, where a familiar figure stands.