T'Jadaka's eyes snapped open, a sharp groan escaping his lips. "Ugh... My head."
He tried to sit up, but a fresh wave of agony shot through his ribs and spine. "Fuck... my everything." He fell back onto the soft mattress, wincing as the world spun. He blinked, trying to scrub the haze of pain and confusion from his vision.
This wasn't his room. The air didn't smell like the sterile, sharp tang of the hospital or the dry dust of the forest. It smelled of crushed herbs and antiseptic. The room was simple, bathed in soft, natural light filtering through sheer curtains that danced in a light breeze.
Where the hell am I?
He managed to push himself up again, ignoring the protesting scream of his muscles. He looked down at his torso. He was swathed in bandages—not the normal cotton kind, but thick, translucent wrappings that pulsed with a pale, steady green light. Mana bandages.
"What the fuck is going on?" he muttered, running his hand—the one not completely mummified—over his scalp. "Who is trying to heal me!? This is so weird... I need to get the fuck outta here."
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting a cool wooden floor. The instant he put weight on his right leg, it buckled. He collapsed with a muffled cry, the effort making his recovering arms flare with a searing, internal heat.
T'Jadaka slammed his fist onto the floorboards, the impact sending a jolt of white-hot pain through his bandaged arm. A furious, guttural growl ripped from his throat.
Marks! Form! he commanded, reaching deep for that well of Mazoku energy.
He focused his will, demanding the familiar, complex black lines to burn themselves onto his skin—the prelude to the rapid healing and power surge he desperately needed.
Nothing.
The skin on his forearm remained stubbornly pale. The obsidian marks refused to surface. His body was an empty well, the bucket hitting dry dirt at the bottom.
"That fuckin' dick, Shikiba..." he hissed, the name a curse. "I'm too drained to even use my marks!"
The reality of it hit him like a physical blow. He was virtually paralyzed, too weak to move, too spent to access his own bloodline. He couldn't even stand, let alone fight. The questions began to pile up, suffocating him. I'm too weak to move, I can't heal, and I have no idea what happened to everyone while I was out!
The door creaked. T'Jadaka's head snapped toward the sound.
Standing in the doorway was a girl with long, dark purple hair that spilled past her shoulders. Her eyes were dark silver—the exact, chilling shade as Shikiba's.
Another Stygian, he thought, the remnants of his rage coiling in his gut.
"Oh my!" she gasped, her eyes widening. She rushed toward the bed. "I didn't think you'd be awake after all that... Are you—"
She reached out to steady him, but before her fingers could brush his skin, T'Jadaka's eyes flared black and white. Fueled by sheer panic, he pushed off the floor. His injured legs took his weight for a split second as he dashed backward, stumbling into a shaky fighting stance.
He's standing!? He shouldn't even be able to move... The girl's expression shifted from concern to bewildered alarm.
"Where the hell am I!?" T'Jadaka snarled, his frame trembling violently. "And what did you do with my family!?"
The girl immediately put her hands up, palms out. "Calm down! Nothing has happened to them, okay!? They're safe. Just sit back down before you make your legs worse... please."
Her silver eyes, despite the Stygian connection, held a worried sincerity. T'Jadaka's instincts, though weakened, didn't scream lie. Plus, the intense pain in his quads was a more convincing threat than she was.
He collapsed back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, the black and white receding from his vision. "Okay. I'll humor you," he conceded, the rage draining into pure exhaustion. "But make it ASAP."
The girl offered a small, hesitant smile, then turned to grab medical supplies from a nearby table. She pulled a stool close and went to work on his legs.
"I have to say, the way you stood your ground against Shikiba was pretty amazing," she said, carefully unwrapping a glowing bandage. Her tone was gentle, and a faint blush touched her cheeks. "Not even high-level mana users can hold up in a fight like that, and you don't even use a mana core."
T'Jadaka's jaw tightened. "Yeah, well, Shikiba—whoever the hell he is to you—is a fucking dickhead," he snarled. His hands clenched into fists against the sheets. "He came to my mom's funeral, kicked over her casket, and wouldn't even let me mourn in peace... Yeah, it's 'fuck him till I die' for me."
"Yeah... That's a completely fair way to feel," she murmured. She began rubbing a cool, menthol-scented ointment onto his bruised skin, the sensation dulling the ache.
T'Jadaka shifted restlessly. "Enough of the small talk. Tell me what I want to know. Start with who you are and why the hell you're healing me."
"Y-yeah!" She cleared her throat, straightening her posture. "My name is Yui Stygian. I'm the daughter of the head of the clan. Right now, you're at our home in the Shetu District."
She placed her hands on his legs, a wave of pale green light enveloping the wounds. "Your family has been informed you're here. And, most importantly... your mother's body is whole. They laid her to rest a few hours ago."
T'Jadaka let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. At least I got some good news today. "Hold on. If you're the head's daughter, why did Shikiba stop? And why am I still breathing?"
Yui removed her hands, the light fading. She gestured to his now-smooth skin. "I'm not a hundred percent sure myself; you might have to ask my father. He called off the attack the moment he found out who you and your mother were." She smiled gently. "There. You should be fully healed now."
T'Jadaka cautiously stood up, performing a few stretches and a deep squat. The pain was gone. "Thanks... I really appreciate it. Sorry for being a dick earlier."
"Nah, it's cool. Don't worry about it," she replied warmly. "To be honest, if I were in your shoes, I would have acted the same way." She leaned in a little, her silver eyes searching his. "Though I have to say..."
Yui paused, a flicker of admiration in her voice. "I never knew a Viltrumlight would be able to stand up to one of us like that. It's even rarer to see that you're not only part Mazoku, but also part Yamazato Tribe! You're really blessed, you know?"
"Wait, wait. Hold your horses. I know what a 'Mazoku' is, but I don't know what the hell a Yamazato is," T'Jadaka said, his curiosity finally overriding his caution.
Yui looked genuinely shocked. "Wait... You don't know who your people are?"
"Don't talk like you know all about 'my people,' Yui. Like you know everything about them. I'm pretty sure you just heard stories about a name."
Yui pouted, drawing her hands back. "What!? It may be true, but we actually have records about the Yamazato Tribe, you jerk! Mostly from diplomatic and military interactions, but it's still better than nothing."
Damn it, I hate how she has a point, T'Jadaka conceded. That's a part of my mom's history she didn't even know herself...
"You're right. I'm sorry for being an ass. Could you please show me the records you have?"
Yui smiled, the silver of her eyes softening. "That's better." She rose from the stool, her posture shifting. "You should be fully mobile now, and I could also, you know..." She played idly with a strand of her purple hair. "Show you around the manor, if you want?"
T'Jadaka's internal alarm bells went off. Holy shit... I think she's crushing on me. I should turn her down right now. He paused, a calculating look entering his eyes. It wouldn't hurt to keep the illusion up a little longer. It'll make her more likely to show me the records I need.
"Sure, why not," he replied, giving a measured, noncommittal shrug. "As long as you're certain my family is safe, I don't really care how I spend my time."
They stepped out of the secluded compound and onto the pavement of the Shetu District. T'Jadaka paused, squinting against the glare. Unlike the sterile, hushed quiet of the hospital, this place vibrated with a loud, relentless industrial energy.
Cars hummed on mag-rails, delivery trucks rumbled over the asphalt, and thousands of people—every single one of them sporting dark silver eyes and carmine-black hair—bustled past. They moved with a synchronized, efficient purpose. The sheer number of people who looked like carbon copies of one another was deeply unsettling.
"This place looks like a fascist dictator's wet dream," T'Jadaka observed flatly, his gaze sweeping over the identical faces. "Everybody looks exactly the same."
Yui recoiled, a sharp crease forming between her brows. "Why do you have to be like that!? Geez..."
"Hey, it's an astute observation, okay?" he retorted, offering a noncommittal shrug. "Don't get butt-hurt just because it's true."
The moment he stepped further onto the sidewalk, the rhythm of the street broke. A throng of girls materialized out of the crowd, swarming T'Jadaka and physically shoving Yui to the curb.
"Hey! I just finished treating him!" Yui protested, her voice lost in the sudden chatter.
T'Jadaka's eyes widened. "What the—"
Before he could finish, the group swept him up like a riptide.
"OMG! It's really him! The guy who held his own against Shikiba!" one girl gushed, her silver eyes shimmering.
"Yeah, he had Shikiba on the ropes! He almost killed him!" another chimed in. She reached out, cupping his face and rubbing his cheek with a giddy, terrifying sigh. "Ohh~ He's so handsome, that's a huge bonus~"
Flustered, T'Jadaka managed to gently peel their hands off him, stumbling back. "For God's sake, ladies! I know I'm a good-looking guy, but this is ridiculous! What the hell do you want from me!?"
The girls exchanged delighted, hungry smiles. "We want to have your children!~♡" they chorused in perfect, haunting synchronization.
The demand hit him like a physical blow. T'Jadaka's brain stalled.
God, no... not this again... Yui pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a groan of pure frustration.
"You WHAT!?" T'Jadaka demanded, spinning toward Yui. "What the hell are they on about, bro!?"
Yui fiddled nervously with her jacket cuff. "Y-yeah... you see, our clan is descended from half-demons. It's in our nature to have a very strong drive to produce powerful offspring. We're naturally attracted to strong men with the skills to improve the gene pool..."
"Well, I don't have any mana at all," T'Jadaka pointed out, gesturing to his bare, mark-free arms. "So I don't know why you guys are all over me."
"That may be true; we normally don't go after men who are only physically strong," one girl admitted, stepping back into his personal space.
"But you're a special exception," another added, her voice breathy.
"You possess two of the rarest bloodlines in existence," the last girl concluded, her eyes shining with avarice. "The Yamazato Tribe and the Mazoku! So please... let all of us have your children!~♡"
T'Jadaka's stomach turned. Hell nah. You're trying to use me like a living sperm donor... I need to get the fuck out of here.
"Thank you, girls. I'm flattered you want me to be your husband, but I'll have to respectfully decline. I have a girlfriend at home."
Yui's face fell slightly. The girls, however, just shrugged.
"So?"
"So!?" T'Jadaka repeated, bewildered.
"I mean, we don't need you to raise them or anything."
"Yeah, we don't mind being mistresses at all~"
Oh... Oh nah, they have lost their damn minds! They're freaky-freaky! T'Jadaka took a cautious step back, panic mounting in his chest. "Look, ladies, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I'm a one-woman guy. I am not, under any circumstances, planning on becoming a... a stud."
The girls' expressions hardened into determined pouts. "We don't take no for an answer, handsome."
"Yeah, you just need to relax and let nature take its course."
T'Jadaka looked around desperately. The identical crowd didn't care; they watched the aggressive recruitment like it was a normal Tuesday. He turned to Yui, eyes pleading. "Yui! Help me out here, please!"
Yui cleared her throat, stepping forward with an air of authority. "Alright, ladies, give the man some space. He's on a diplomatic tour of the district with the head family."
The girls deflated instantly. "Aww, fine." They stepped back, still shooting him covetous glances. "But we'll be waiting for you to finish your 'tour,' handsome."
"Seriously?" T'Jadaka muttered as they hurried down the street.
"Told you they were interested in genes," Yui said with an embarrassed shrug. "It's just the culture. They meant no harm; it's considered an honor."
"An honor I can definitely live without," T'Jadaka shot back, checking over his shoulder every five seconds. "Okay, new plan: I don't want a tour. I want to see those records about the Yamazato Tribe now, and then I want to see your father."
Yui sighed. "Fine. Follow me. The library isn't far."
They walked in silence for a few minutes until T'Jadaka's stomach let out a long, violent rumble that echoed off the brick walls. Yui stopped, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Hungry, are we?"
T'Jadaka felt the heat rise to his face. "Yeah, well, I was too busy getting my ass kicked and then getting harassed to eat, so..."
"I know a place nearby. My cousin runs it. They make the best sekihan you'll ever have. It's a Stygian specialty."
T'Jadaka shrugged. His hunger was a demanding beast now. "Lead the way. But then? Straight to the records."
Twenty minutes later, T'Jadaka leaned back, utterly stuffed. A gentle belch escaped him. Around the table, the restaurant floor looked like a disaster zone. He had consumed savory beef and crispy tempura by the hundreds of servings. The sheer density of five hundred and fifty-seven full-course meals had successfully obliterated the last of his exhaustion. Three visibly shaken staff members were currently hauling away towering stacks of empty bowls.
"Man! I was starving. That hit the spot," T'Jadaka said, patting his stomach.
Jin, the restaurant owner, approached the table, his left eye twitching. "Yui," he said, gesturing wildly at the mountain of tableware being wheeled away. "Your friend just ate thousands of dollars worth of food... He ate more than the first five hundred people who came in here combined..."
Yui giggled nervously, a bead of sweat on her temple. "Sorry, cousin Jin... but don't worry! I already told him to pay for all of it."
"Okay," T'Jadaka said, standing up. "That was amazing. Now, library time."
As they walked away, Jin stood at the door, watching them go with a look of stunned disbelief. He grabbed a piece of cardboard and a thick marker, furiously scribbling. He slapped the new sign into the window with a definitive smack.
It read: NO VILTRUMLIGHTS ALLOWED.
"They can't come in here no more," Jin muttered, his eye still twitching. "If they eat like that boy, I'll be out of business, money be damned."
They finally reached the library. Inside, Yui led him to the very back, where the clan kept combat scrolls from previous eras.
"Are you sure your dad is going to approve of this?" T'Jadaka asked. "An outsider seeing sensitive info on enemies you fought?"
"I'm allowed to show whoever I want. Being in the head family gives me that privilege," she said, skimming the shelves. "My only problem is there are thousands of these things, so it's going to be hard to find—"
"You mean this scroll right here that has the clan name on it?"
She looked over, surprised. "How did you find it so quickly!?"
"Alphabetical order, Yui. It seems your librarian actually takes time to organize. I don't know who you guys hired, but they don't suck."
Yui took the scroll and carefully unfurled it, the ancient paper crinkling softly. Her eyes scanned the text. "It's been a long time since I looked at one of these," she murmured. "I almost forgot the Yamazato Tribe gave us these scrolls willingly."
T'Jadaka's eyes widened. "Wait, why?"
Yui met his gaze. "Because the Yamazato Tribe and the Stygian Clan were allies—no, more than that. They were best friends for over ten thousand years."
T'Jadaka stared, floored. "You can't be serious."
"It's true," she insisted, tapping the scroll. "This explains everything."
She unrolled the brittle paper, pointing to a flowing, complex script. "This scroll contains the Yamazato's own history. It describes their origins—a warrior race that was tragically out of place in a universe of cruelty."
The Home World: M'karnhesh
"Their home was M'karnhesh," Yui read, her finger dragging along the faded text. "A world one thousand times the size of Seykxel'rrta." She paused, mouthing the number. "The gravity was so dense that any ordinary creature would have been instantly crushed into a smear of biological matter the moment they stepped onto the surface."
"Gross," T'Jadaka muttered.
"The Yamazato developed their strength purely as a survival mechanism. A biological necessity, just to breathe on their own world." She turned the scroll, revealing a diagram of a massive, scarred monolith of a starship. "M'karnhesh was destroyed by a natural cosmic cataclysm. The 'Great Unraveling.' The Yamazato were already nomadic; they lived entirely on that ship. That's why their core values were cooperation, warmth, and self-sacrifice... they weren't just ideals. They were survival instincts. Hardwired."
Arrival on Seykxel'rrta
"When the vessel crash-landed here, the inhabitants were terrified. Ready for war."
"I mean, fair," he said.
"But the Yamazato weren't conquerors. They offered technology, helped locals develop... the scroll says they didn't see a world to take. They saw a fragile species that needed protection."
T'Jadaka's eyes narrowed. "Okay, but if they were so kind, why were they mercenaries? Assassins? That doesn't sound like protection."
Yui lowered the scroll. "That's the irony." She sighed. "They became elite fighters because their strength was unmatched and they needed resources to repair the ship. But they were notoriously picky. A Yamazato would never take a contract that meant oppressing the weak. And if a village was being overrun... they'd fight for free."
She found her place again. "The scroll calls them anomalies. Warrior angels driven by empathy rather than bloodlust."
The Downfall of the Kind
Yui's voice dropped. "The global coalition grew terrified of them. Their regeneration... they looked like immortal devils to the humans. But they weren't destroyed in open conflict. It was their trusting nature that killed them."
She shook her head. "Humanity's ruling factions weaponized that kindness. They lured them into ambushes with elaborate lies. And the Yamazato just... couldn't comprehend it. Calculated malice didn't exist in their way of thinking."
Silence stretched between them.
"They were hunted to extinction, T'Jadaka. Not because they were weak. Because they were too good." She looked at him. "Your mother's lineage... she was one of the last of a species of fiercely kind warriors."
T'Jadaka didn't say anything. It clicked. The way his mother had been—fierce, uncompromising, yet always giving her earnings to the starving.
"Wait." He looked up. "You said they couldn't stay dead. Is that why my mom survived so much? Because she was Viltrumlight, but also part Yamazato?"
Yui nodded. "Viltrumlight resilience, Mazoku adaptation, and Yamazato biology... whatever that creates, it's something close to indestructible. Your mother was the last remnant of a species too kind to survive a cruel galaxy."
"Ah... I see," T'Jadaka said, trying to sound casual despite the unease in his chest. "So... what does that make me? The Last of a Dying Breed with some 'Unknown Destiny'? Because that crap sounds exactly like a Hero's Journey arc."
Yui offered a small, sympathetic smile. "I wouldn't call it that. You're the main character of your own story. You're in charge of your destiny." She paused, her smile fading. "Although... your clock runs a lot longer than ours, in the long run."
He looked confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, mana users like us live for a long time—up to 300 years, sometimes more—but we still age. By the time we're a hundred, we might look around 70 or 80. Viltrumlights age even slower than us, and the older they get, the slower the aging process becomes." She sighed, the implication heavy in the air. "It's been said that Raiken has been around for over 5,000 years and doesn't look a day over 30."
T'Jadaka's face paled, the realization sinking in. "So... I'm cursed to see all my loved ones die... While I remain virtually ageless...?"
Yui's expression was soft with genuine sadness. "Yeah... I'm sorry for breaking the news to you."
Then, T'Jadaka's face went utterly blank. The vibrant animation drained from his features, leaving behind a profound, weary exhaustion that seemed to age him decades in an instant. The light brown in his eyes that was full of determination, replaced by a terrible, empty brown. He had finally grasped the full, horrific scope of his inheritance.
Every decision I make after this point won't even matter, the thought echoed, cold and absolute, in the silence of his mind. Falling in love... making bonds... forging a family... All of it is a cruel, self-inflicted wound. He saw the future laid out before him, a relentless sequence of tombstones, each one bearing the name of someone he would come to love.
They will all die. And I will keep living, the sole survivor of a massacre that repeats itself century after century. It will be heartbreak over and over again until the end of time. The agony of it was a crushing weight, far worse than any physical blow Shikiba had landed.
"T'Jadaka..?" Yui whispered, her dark silver eyes wide with concern, reaching out a hesitant hand but stopping just short of touching him. The sheer, depthless grief radiating from him was palpable.
He pushed the devastating vision away with a shudder, forcing himself to focus on the immediate, desperate need for escape. "Just please bring me to your father," he said, his voice flat, stripped of all emotion, "I just want to leave now."
Yui nodded, her face etched with sympathy. "Right this way... It's north from here."
After a few minutes of silent walking, T'Jadaka's initial shock began to crystallize into a grim resolve. He adjusted his stride, the weariness in his gait replaced by a quiet determination.
I can't change the fact that I'll outlive them all, he thought, the truth a cold weight in his heart. But I can change how they live while they're here. If I'm going to be the constant in their lives, the least I can do is make sure I give them the best damn life possible.
He stopped abruptly, turning to Yui.
"Yo, Yui."
"Yeah?" she replied, halting beside him, her brow furrowed with concern.
"I guess since I'm cursed to live a long time, the best I can do is be the best part of the lives of everyone I know," he stated, his voice now low and steady. "But to do that, I have to do something that might be the hardest thing I'll ever do."
"What is it?" she asked, her silver eyes searching his.
"I know this might be pushing it, but I might need you to do a little favor for me," he said.
Yui let out a nervous laugh. "Please tell me it's not about you eating more food."
Jadaka managed a small, rueful chuckle. "Nah, not that. But it is bigger than that, though."
Yui met his gaze, her expression supportive. "Well, if you go talk to my dad about it, I'll support you on it."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," he said, offering her a genuine, albeit small, smile.
Three years later.
T'Jadaka stood on the periphery of the Xing Long district, a heavy black hoodie pulled up, obscuring the lower half of his face, the hood shadowing his eyes. He paused, his gaze sweeping over the familiar, chaotic sprawl of the city.
A weary sigh escaped him. "Three years... Normally, I would think that's a long time, but honestly... it doesn't seem like much time passed at all."
The city hadn't changed, a constant in his newly accelerated perception of time. The sights, the smells, the relentless noise—all were exactly as he remembered. The profound realization of his accelerated longevity, the core of his new resolve, was heavy in his chest.
"I wonder how everyone has been since I left?" he murmured, a mix of apprehension and quiet hope in his voice.
He began to walk down the crowded street, a ghost in his own city, the weight of three long years of self-imposed exile pressing down on him.