To a man, they wondered about the intentions of the forest Yokai. “Is this the path to our revenge?”
“Who are you,” said a voice from behind. They spun around to find a man dressed all in black. We wore black mask emblazoned with a skull, and his eyes burned red.
The shadowy figure dropped to the ground and leveled a katana at the Ninja Masters. “Why do you wear those clothes?”
“We are Ninja.”
The black-clad man grunted. “Ninja? The Ninja are all dead, friend. Go home. It’s not a night for Ninja.”
He tipped them a salute with the edge of his blade and disappeared into the shadows.
“It was him,” said the Orchid Master. “That was him. Fumetsu. No matter what he drapes himself in, Fumetsu still lives.”
“Impossible.”
“No! I know that voice. I know the way he moves. And I know why we are here. This is a new world. A strange new time. They know nothing of Ninja here. They think us dead. And…we are. We are each dead men. That was the price of revenge. But the age of Ninja will live again, and Fumetsu will suffer.”
