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paradigm

A garden of blood

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Izral clung to the edges of his peripheral vision, a clump of flickering lights amidst the dense black canvas of the horizon. Periodically, a light dimmed, only to be replaced by another in a moment’s time. He could understand why the ignorant thought the city-states of Alterion as vast mazes of sprawling star light—beckoning those deemed worthy to penetrate its depths in an effort to control it. Still, the prospect of a frontal assault of this magnitude displeased him. Not for lack of desire, it could never be said that Itazuki shied away from a challenge—rather it seemed too unoriginal.

It had been done before—hell, he had done it before.

No, if it was his intention to break Izral, Itazuki would do so in his own way, with his own methods.

It is a strange sensation, to feel forgotten by the world—to feel as though one’s accomplishments are hollow actions, absent the applaud of adoring worshipers. Still, at times, anonymity was more blessing than curse and, true to his nature, Itazuki claimed these blessings as articles of his own design, refusing to afford fate even the slightest hand in his actions.

The fading hours of night found the wastes on the outskirt of Izral all but abandoned. Whatever manner of man or beast, that sought mischief, fled long ago, fear of the encroaching day light superseding the greed of banditry. Fortunately, Itazuki held no qualms with daylight, nor was he acquainted with fear; the plagues of lesser men, so often bored him. Still draped in darkness, the hooded figure set to work and raised his hands out before him in a grandiose gesture. Palms leveled towards the sky, as power undulated from the robed figure, both eldritch and terrible. The methodology and madness of the fell arts seemed a pointless thing to ponder, as Itazuki merely made demands of what he needed from the world, no matter the plane it resided it on. The rods of dominion came to life within his body, spinning in their piercings, the slow circulation of gears in a clockwork device. Grey eyes, absent of life and light, burned with dark power, rippling across the surface of the organs in time with the crashing waves of energy.

Rising from the depths of the waste, the altar stood before Itazuki as nothing more than another pawn, seeking his guidance. Fingertips reached out and sought his prize, resting in a small concave aperture at the altar’s center. Plucking the tiny seed between thumb and forefinger, Itazuki slipped it within the confines of his robe and moved past the altar, making his way not towards Izral, but one of the smaller outlying villages near it’s borders.

Like any plant, his seed would need to be nurtured and cared for in order to grow…and Itazuki knew precisely what nourishment to provide his newest charge.

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A swirling pattern blew with the wind as the process picked up with great speed. A suction sound elapsed but stopped abrubtly as a form began to occupy its zone. Appearing a league or so off from his comrade, he knew. The seed was planted, and there was nothing that could be done now to stop it from growing. It would have been problematic if his chakra had entered in the vicinity where the seed was planted. That was a mark left by the only one who could, Itazuki.

Instead the masked ninja clouded himself in the shadows of a small village nearby. His entrance would have been noticeable if he had not done so in an area that nobody walked through. A small hum of silence between buildings, looking on either side is the hum drum of the town. Though it was Sekkendou knew that the slayings would come. The plasma from any being or form could flow within that seed. So no matter the victim, you will gain. This move meant Itazuki wasn't after miniscule matters anymore.

It didn't matter to him locating the world's most powerful weapons and obtaining them, he was creating one. Not even Kataki knew the location of where Itazuki's power was really coming from. But as of now the world seed had been planted. One day Kataki would have to approach that tree, but to do so would mean he had a mission that took all costs. Feeling the growth of this magnitude was amazing on the scale of energy. But the people in the small outskirts of Izral weren't really worthy of the tree. Kataki was connected to and with the tree moments later. A cabal granted to himself and very few.

The time was upon them to create a dominant force within the world that would make men tremble. Armies turn back with fear, would be rulers afraid to lose their crown. The mark of Entropy was going to be plastered on this world.

Edited by The Doctor

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Standing atop the hill, Itazuki peered down at the village below--a hawk gauging the best path of descent upon unsuspecting prey. He could sense Kataki's reservations regarding the village's usefulness, yet despite the vast distance between the two there was an understanding.

Wait...

Wait and see.


These were the words muttered from one half-dead youth to another, a lifetime ago, in a realm far different than the one they know stood upon. True, the village wasn't much to look at, but Itazuki found it impressive in its austere simplicity. Considering that Alterion was a nation of marvels and mega-cities sprawling the countryside, that a hamlet such as this managed to survive and thrive was nothing short of miraculous. As he understood it, very few territories could exist without the blessing of the High Mason, or King, or whatever the devil the man was calling himself these days.

Itazuki payed such little mind to politics. He measured a man's worth in that individuals usefulness to him and his cause. No doubt, there were those who would shake their head at his persistence, and wonder if 'men like that' ever learned. Yes, Itazuki learned a great deal over the last few years, about himself and about Valucre. The time finally came to take that knowledge, apply it and move forward. Resolved not to make his previous mistakes, Itazuki settled onto his haunches and watched the village, dead eyes serving only to reflect the horizon and the vast empty sky above.

"Soon..." Itazuki said aloud, "The seed will sprout soon, but the earth is not ready. I need yet more blood if my roots are to take hold."

Edited by paradigm

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