The Kurta Inevitability

(warning sadness ahead)

There in the middle of the forest, surrounded by trees and the sounds of nature was a boy. His arms were shaking, and his muscles were burning as he did handstand pushups.

He could sense his body pushing its limits with each push. Sweat ran down his brow and his breaths came out in brief gasps, but he stood strong.

His biceps swelled with each repetition, and veins protruded from his wrists. His gaze stayed fixed on the ground as he pushed himself further and further.

After what seemed like a hour, he collapsed onto the ground, his arms shaking and his chest heaving with fatigue, while Pairo lay down and gazed absently.

"Hnn Pairo, when we go and join Kurapika" he added smiling widely. "We're gonna have a blast."

Pairo come out of his stupor and he couldn't help but wonder, "Why do you want to go on this journey so much, Ikki?"

Ikki's face grow a little cold with an air of seriousness in it. "I made a promise to my great-grandfather before he passed away," he said. "He told me to never give up on my dreams, to never let anyone tell me what I can or cannot do. And he also told me to always keep moving forward, no matter what."

Pairo looked at Ikki in admiration, realizing just how strong and determined his friend truly was. "That's a great promise, keep it."

Ikki smiled confidently. "I will, Pairo. I'll will."

As they talked, Ikki noticed something in the distance. It was a thick black smoke rising from the direction of their village.

"Hey, Pairo, do you see that?" Ikki pointed towards the smoke.

Pairo sat up and squinted. "What is that? It doesn't look good."

Ikki's face became grim. "We need to go back to the village now. Something is happening there."

Without a second thought, Ikki picked up Pairo and put him on his back. He then started running towards the village at breakneck speed.

Pairo held on tight as they ran through the forest. Ikki's muscles bulged as he flexed his legs, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He could feel Pairo's weight on his back, but he didn't slow down.

As they approached the village, the black smoke became thicker, and the air was filled with the smell of burning wood. Ikki's heart sank: 'NO it's impossible!'.

...…

As the Phantom Troupe arrived at the small village, Shalnark couldn't help but feel excited. They had been searching for the Kurta Clan for years, and finally, they might have found them.

"Let's split up and search the village," Chrollo said to the rest of the group. "But be careful not to draw their suspicion "

The troupe was eager to locate the Kurta Clan, but they knew they had to tread carefully. They didn't want to take the chance of alerting the villagers of their intentions.

As Shalnark walked around the village, he saw a man and his wife talking outside their house. He approached them, pretending to be lost.

"Excuse me, do you know where the nearest inn is?" he asked.

The man looked at him suspiciously. "We don't have any inns around here. What do you want?"

Shalnark could feel the man's hostility, and he knew he had to be careful.

"I'm sorry to bother you. We're just passing through. We were hoping to find some information about the Kurta Clan. Have you heard anything about them?"

The man's expression changed, and Shalnark knew he had hit a nerve. Suddenly, the man's wife appeared behind him.

"Stay away from us," she said, her eyes shining bright red.

Shalnark knew what that meant. The woman was a member of the Kurta Clan.

Finally, Chrollo arrived on the scene. He stood back and watched as the chaos unfolded before him. "Hmm, so we finally found you," he said with a smirk. "Gather all the villagers, especially their families. We'll keep them here. We need them angry."

Nobunaga watched in horror as the rest of the Phantom Troupe members rounded up the villagers. He knew what was about to happen, and he didn't want to be a part of it.

But he couldn't leave. He was a member of the Phantom Troupe; he had promised to follow Chrollo.

He couldn't bear to watch, but he couldn't look away either.

This was the reality of their world. A world where power and strength were all that mattered. A world where the weak were trampled underfoot.

He could feel his heart racing as he watched the Phantom Troupe members wreak havoc on the innocent villagers. He couldn't believe the extent of their brutality as they went from house to house, dragging out families and children in their search for any members with crimson eyes.

One villager, a father of three tried to hide his children. But Phinks just sneered.

"Don't lie to us, we know they're here. Where are they?" The man remained silent, only to be met with a blow to the face that sent him tumbling to the ground.

Machi kicked him in the ribs and said, "You're not fooling anyone. Your eyes will shine crimson, just like your wife's, when we find them."

Nobunaga couldn't help but feel a bit disgusted by the Troupe's actions. He knew they were ruthless, but he had never seen them act so callously before. As they moved on to the next house, he overheard Feitan taunting a group of children.

"Are you Kurta too?" he sneered. "Your eyes don't look like it. Maybe if we beat you enough, your parent's eyes will start to shine a bright crimson. "

The screams of the villagers echoed through the village as the Phantom Troupe members carried out their brutal mission.

"This is madness," he whispered to himself.

Shalnark could see the villagers growing angrier by the minute, their eyes shining a deeper crimson as the Troupe continued their rampage.

The elder horn of the Kurta clan, his face twisted with rage and grief, charged at Feitan with a sharpened spear in hand. Feitan, however, was not caught off guard. He deftly sidestepped the attack, grabbing the elder's arm and twisting it until the spear clattered to the ground.

"You... attack me?" Feitan spoke, his voice low.

The elder spat in his face, his eyes blazing with fury. Feitan response was swift and deadly. He drew a small knife from his pocket and plunged it into the elder's chest, twisting the blade before pulling it out.

The elder gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain. He stumbled backward, clutching at the wound in his chest, before falling to the ground with a sickening thud.

Chrollo calmly approached the lifeless body of the Kurta clan's elder, a dagger in hand. The rest of the troupe watched in silence as he knelt down and pierced the blade into the elder's chest.

As he withdrew his hand, a small sheet of paper, sitcked on the tip of the blade. The words, written on it: "We reject no one, so take nothing from us."

He stood up and turned to face the remaining villagers, who were huddled in fear and shock at the brutality they had just witnessed. Chrollo spoke in a low, ominous voice.

"This is our creed" he said " We reject no one, and so no ones take from us. But the Kurta clan is different. You have something we want. And so, you will pay."

The Troupe members behind him nodded, their eyes cold and unfeeling.

The elder woman, a wise and weathered doctor known to many as "Grandma," pleaded with the Phantom Troupe as they barged into her humble clinic.

She begged for mercy, promising to give them anything they wanted if they spared her and her people.

Feitan, the cold and ruthless member of the Troupe, simply stared at her with an unfeeling gaze.

"We need your eyes," he said flatly.

The old woman was taken aback by his words, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew that the Troupe was after the Kurta clan and their unique, crimson eyes. But what did they want with her eyes? Did they plan to blind her?

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the members of the Troupe, hoping to see some glimmer of humanity in them. But all she saw were cold, unfeeling killers.

"I beg of you, please spare me," she pleaded once more, her voice shaking with fear. "I am just a humble doctor; I have nothing to do with the Kurta clan."

But Feitan was adamant. "We need your eyes," he said again, taking a stride closer to her with a menacing gleam in his eyes.

.....

Ikki carefully placed down Pairo, his closest friend, and climbed up the nearest tree to get a better view of what was happening in the village. His heart sank as he saw the horror unfolding before his very eyes. The people he had grown to treat as his family, the ones he had loved and cared for, were now lying on the ground in pools of blood.

As Ikki looked closer, he saw a group of people kneeling beside the fallen villagers, their hands reaching for their faces. The realization of what was happening hit him like a ton of bricks, and he couldn't help but puke at the sight of it. "No, no, no," he muttered to himself. "Grandma, she can't be dead. Panko!"

Ikki's mind raced as he tried to process the devastation before him. He felt helpless, his heart heavy with grief and anger. As he watched, the group of people continued to take something from the faces of the fallen villagers, leaving behind only empty eye sockets filled with blood.

Tears streamed down Ikki's face as he climbed down from the tree, his eyes never leaving the gruesome scene. He approached Pairo, who was struggling to sit up and see what was happening.

"Don't look, Pairo," Ikki said, his voice shaking with emotion. "It's too late. They're all gone." Pairo's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he looked towards the village.

"We need to leave, now," he said, his voice low and urgent.

He slowly descended the tree, his gaze never abandoning the devastation below. He grabbed Pairo's arm and pulled him away from the village as he neared the ground. "We have to go," he said, his voice shaking with dread and rage. "If we remain, they'll kill us as well."

Pairo's confusion only grew as Ikki remained silent, lost in his own thoughts. He stumbled over roots and rocks, relying on Ikki to guide him through the forest.

As they ran, Pairo could hear the sound of Ikki's ragged breathing and the pounding of his own heart. He wanted answers, but he could tell by Ikki's tense grip on his arm that he was too afraid to tell him what had happened.

Finally, they reached the clearing, and Pairo collapsed onto the ground beside Ikki, his breathing heavy and labored. "Ikki, please," he begged. "Tell me what's going on. What happened to our village?"

Ikki hesitated, his eyes flickering with a mix of fear and sadness. "Our village... it's gone," he said quietly. "They killed everyone. They were looking for something…."

Pairo's mouth fell open in shock and horror. "But why, Ikki? Who would do something like that?" he asked, tears streaming down his face.

Ikki shook his head. "I don't know, Pairo. But we have to keep moving. We have to find a way to stay safe and protect each other," he said, his voice determined.

"What do we do, Ikki?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Ikki wiped away his tears and took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

"We have to run, Pairo," he said, his voice firm. "We have to get as far away from here as possible. We can't let them catch us." Pairo nodded in agreement, still in shock from the horrors they had just heard.

Pairo nodded, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. "I understand, let's go".

....

Chrollo stood on the outskirts of the village, watching as the Phantom Troupe went about their business of collecting information. He approached Feitan, the quiet and deadly member of the group, with a request.

"Feitan, kindly question one of the villagers." "We need to find out if there is anyone missing from this village," Chrollo said in a cautious tone.

Feitan's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of torture. "Now this is what I live for," he said, cracking his knuckles.

Chrollo rolled his eyes at Feitan's enthusiasm but didn't stop him. He knew that Feitan was one of their most effective interrogators, despite his twisted love for inflicting pain.

Feitan approached the man, his face expressionless as he began his interrogation. The man was tied , his eyes wide with fear as he realized what was about to happen. Feitan circled around him, cracking his knuckles as he considered his options.

"So, tell me," Feitan began in a low, menacing voice. "Where are the missing boys?"

The man stuttered and stammered, unable to form a coherent answer. Feitan's eyes narrowed, and he moved in closer, his hand grabbing the man's chin and forcing him to look into his eyes.

"I don't have time for games," Feitan growled. "You will tell me what I want to know, or you will suffer the consequences."

Feitan then pulled out a small knife and began to make small cuts on the man's arms and legs, making him cry out in pain. Feitan pressed the knife closer, drawing blood and causing the man to writhe in agony.

"Please," the man begged, tears streaming down his face. "I don't know anything."

Feitan chuckled darkly. "Oh, I think you do," he said as he continued to inflict pain. "You just need a little encouragement to remember."

The man whimpered and looked around, seeing the angry and fearful faces of the other villagers. He knew he had no choice but to reveal the information.

"They're gone, the boys are gone," he said, his voice trembling.

He revealed the location of the missing boys, and Feitan smirked with satisfaction.

Feitan grabbed the man's collar, pulling him close to his face. "Tell me more," he hissed. The man's eyes widened in fear as he continued to spill more information about the missing boys.

Chrollo observed from a distance, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke to Feitan.

"You always do have a way with words, Feitan," he said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Feitan grinned, his enthusiasm evident in his eyes. "I have my methods," he replied with a chilling tone.

Feitan smirked at the success of his interrogation and turned to Chrollo. "Looks like we have our answer," he said, holding up two fingers.

Chrollo nodded in agreement, his mind already working on the next phase of their plan. "Let's gather the rest of the Troupe and make our move," he said.

As they began to gather the other members of the Troupe, Feitan turned to the traitor villager. "So, are you free to go now?" he asked with a sadistic grin.

"You traitor! How could you tell them? !" One of the villagers yelled.

"You've dishonored us all!" Another one added.

The man tried to defend himself, "I-I didn't mean to... They were torturing..."

But his words were drowned out by the angry voices of the villagers.

Feitan watched the scene with a gleeful look in his eyes, while Chrollo remained calm and collected.

"Enough!" Chrollo's voice cut through the chaos, silencing the villagers. "It's done. Feitan, let him go."

Feitan gave the man a cold smirk, "Don't worry. You kept your end of the deal."

The man looked relieved as he scurried away, leaving the rest of the villagers to face the consequences of his actions.

But Feitan gestured to Uvogin, who promptly silenced the traitor with a swift and deadly blow.

The traitor looked up at him in fear, realizing too late the mistake he had made. Without a word, Uvogin reached out and grabbed the man by the neck, lifting him off the ground.

"You've outlived your usefulness," Uvogin said in a low, menacing voice.

The traitor gasped for air, trying to plead for his life, but Uvogin showed no mercy. With a sudden twist of his hand, he snapped the traitor's neck with a sickening crack. The man's body went limp in his grip, and Uvogin dropped him to the ground.

Feitan seemed almost enthusiastic about the display of brutality. But Uvogin seemed almost amused by the traitor's demise.

Feitan turned to Chrollo with a small smirk on his face. "I always knew Uvogin had a way with words," he said sarcastically.

Chrollo gave a small chuckle in response. "Indeed, he has a gift for diplomacy," he said dryly.

After Uvogin finished off the traitor, Pakunoda stepped forward with a stern look on her face.

"Chrollo, we didn't have to resort to violence. You could have just asked me to search their memories," she said.

Chrollo simply extended his arm towards her, and Pakunoda's eyes widened in surprise. She placed her fingers on his forehead and closed her eyes, delving into his memories.

After a few moments, she opened her eyes again, her expression softening.

"I see. I understand now why you wanted it to happen this way," she said, nodding her head in understanding.

Chrollo withdrew his arm and gave a small smile. "I knew you would," he said, turning to the other members of the Phantom Troupe. "Let's harvest them now. We have much work to do."

...…

Chrollo's eyes opened again, fixating on the blank wall in front of him. He raised his arm and began to trace a line with his finger, as if drawing a map in the air.

"We must cut all of the roots," he muttered to himself.

The other members of the Phantom Troupe exchanged confused glances, unsure of what Chrollo meant. But they knew better than to question him.

Chrollo stood up from his throne, his cape billowing behind him. "Nobunaga, Uvogin, go after the boys," he said. "They are the last members of the Kurta. Cut off the head of the native Kurta clan and the Outsider, hmmm…." he paused and added softly.

"Based on his reaction, take care of him at your discretion."

Nobunaga and Uvogin nodded, their faces solemn. They knew exactly what they had to do.

Chrollo watched as they left the room, his mind consumed by the thought of eliminating anyone from the Kurta clan. He knew that the Troupe's power and influence would only grow stronger once the news spread out.

'There must be a clear message left behind.'

....

The scene was a gruesome sight to behold. The bodies of the Kurta clan members were scattered around the village, their lifeless eyes staring up at the sky with empty sockets. Blood flowed freely from their eye sockets, staining the ground beneath them in a deep crimson hue. The elder lay near the entrance of the village, his body contorted in a twisted pose. His empty eye sockets stared up at the sky, his lifeless body a testament to the brutality of the Phantom Troupe. Next to him lay the body of the elderly woman doctor, her face twisted in a final scream of terror.

Her empty eye sockets gaped up at the sky, the blood that had poured from them now crusted and black. The bodies of the children were scattered throughout the village, their small frames twisted in unnatural positions.

Their once vibrant eyes, now empty and soulless, stared up at the sky. The village was silent, except for the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. The only evidence of the brutality that had occurred there was the blood-stained ground and the lifeless bodies of the Kurta clan members. It was a haunting scene, one that would remain etched in the memories of anyone who witnessed it.