The Gathering

The wind swept across the barren plain, carrying with it the scent of dust and distant fires. Daizen, Ryuunosuke, and Ayaka stood around a weathered table in the heart of each of their strongholds, each lost in their own thoughts as they read Kazuichi's letter.

The parchment was plain, the writing steady and unadorned, yet every line carried the weight of urgency. Kazuichi had summoned them to his stronghold—an invitation, but also a plea. The Mindless Hybrid Army was no longer a distant rumor, and Hayato's movements had grown too dangerous to ignore.

Daizen ran his hand along the ridges of his calloused palm as he scanned the letter once more, a thoughtful crease forming between his brows. A hulking figure of a man with a broad chest and sturdy legs, Daizen was well-known for his brute strength and tenacity. He had fought his share of hybrid battles, had built his stronghold from the ground up, and protected it with a kind of fierce loyalty that matched his stature.