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Through the twisting passageways beneath the Holy City, darkness reigned and something more than shadow loomed within. Katsuro’s vibranium sole moved soundlessly across carven stone, ever downward in a labyrinthine fashion. A guide was several paces in front of him, a Shadow of Shaytan, though he himself did not bear a torch and lead the Lord of Spiders ever into the dark.

Both spoke nothing. He was admitted to Jerusalem by the grace of their master. Someone who Tenjin had a bloody history with. And at long last, before him was a large ornately carved wooden door, Katsuro’s glimpsed at its decorations through the blackness, cybernetic eyes processing forms of sight beyond human capacity. Beyond this wooden portal, was the man he sought.

Thus, he entered and the iron hinges screeched like rusted banshees in the silence as he made his way into the chamber.

Not many men could claim they mirror the Ninpo Nightmare in size, as Tenjin’s imposing muscularity and height often dominated the swathes of foes he had come across in his decades. Further still, Quintus possessed the sword skills of the Reisho Monastery and the dread rumors of his Blood Bending, the only psychokinetic ability that slew Tenjin within seconds years ago, make the current Raysh Al Shaytan one of few who could challenge him as equals in the ways of death.

This did not detour the Kyoto Killing Machine.

Fear did not live in his heart.

Tenjin approached Quintus Knightfall from the edges of a large ornate carpet, the room brightened by braziers and candle flames but possessing the clinging shadows dancing against the limestone around them.

I have heard through ill whispers you mock my attempt at fulfilling the contact on the lad, William. Yet, if I am to be transparent...I had thought that it was also you, not the *other* Quintus, that I had the chance of butchering that cold winter night.” There was a stoic statuesque appearance about the Fatal Phantom, speaking truth and for what seemed like a breath’s length, pondered the notion of allowing himself to descend into wanton violence. Alas, it would not be this day. “But now, I come as a potential ally...for the time being. Allow me to enlighten you.

His hand emerged from beneath the veil of his cloak, clutching a small bundle of seemingly inconsequential sticks. The Grim Ghost spreads his hand open, casting out the perfectly uniform yarrow with an effortless swing of his mighty arm. The obscure twigs lay aligned and unbroken. His chin was high as he peered downward in contempt and subtle contemplation before slowly adjusting his infernal optics to meet the gaze of Quintus. There was a sense of urgency about the shinobi, uncommon but Tenjin’s demeanor was always monolithic. As regal and relaxed as a seasoned lion. His next words possessed a slow bass-like cadence, pulsing through the surroundings.

Some time ago, I witnessed an unassuming sparrow fly across my mountain. I watched as this sparrow flew, against a strong wind and persevere through it. Only to swoop down and snatch a spider from its web in my abode. Thus, I consulted the I Ching...it has appeared before me again but now in both our shadows.”

Tenjin wasted no time deciphering what he saw, whether or not the Raysh had possessed the same skill in the sixty-four Hexagrams. Katsuro’s mask descended, a spectrum of hexagonal formations retracting into his cuirass. It revealed his revenant like features as pallid lips poured forth his interpretation.

Hexagram One- Heaven upon Heaven. A dragon awakes at the new dawn, stirring heaven in his coils. He is strong and untiring. An arrogant dragon will repent.

Allowing a few seconds to pass, flinging his clock off to the side effortlessly as he sat upon the steps, his armor flickering with wisps of strange shadows amongst coal-black metal. Eyes peering down at the divination before the two warriors. His sense of deeply rooted mysticism was relatively unknown but in small circles, the legends spoke of Tenjin’s grasp of foul Ninja magic.

Such matters were not to be taken light-heartedly.

I foresee this swallow becoming a dragon, this is the one called Red Jay. I have seen his face in the mirrors of fate. His bloodline is strong...” Raising two fingers pointing squarely at the centerline of Quintus’ chest for a moment "You understand this well, that your lot and the LeBeau’s produce greatness- as well as unabashed overconfidence-. The boy, however, is young and a swift killing blow would prevent once again another LeBeau from shaking the heavens...like theKiller of Knightfalls.”

Another short pause occurred, secretly relishing in his own theatrics.

I would see to it the boy dies before he earns his scales, keep your gold, I may be seeking your assistance in another matter first, comrade...” The final word made no effort to hide any sense of sarcasm. “...concerningShadows. The I Ching spoke of both of these fates, as men such as ourselves decide who the dragons truly are.

Now he awaited the True Arashikage, Lord of the League of Shadows, who no doubt was suffering through an enemy’s rather indulgent monologuing.