Kaizen steadied his breathing as he stood before the mysterious old man, his grip firm on his sword. The crew behind him remained tense, their eyes darting between the ruins and the stranger. The old man, however, showed no sign of hostility. Instead, he took a step forward, his gaze locked onto Kaizen's.
"The past does not rest easy," the old man murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And neither will you until you understand your place in it."
Kaizen narrowed his eyes. "You speak as if you know me."
The old man chuckled, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his hood. "I know of you, Kaizen. I have waited for this moment for longer than you can imagine. And now, you stand at the crossroads of history."
Rei stepped forward, hand on the hilt of her dagger. "Enough riddles. Who are you? And what do you know about him?"
The old man sighed, turning toward the towering stone structures behind him. "Come. If you seek the truth, you must be willing to face it."
Kaizen exchanged glances with his crew before nodding. They followed the old man through the ruins, their footsteps echoing against the ancient stones. As they walked, Kaizen couldn't shake the feeling that he had been here before—not in body, but in something deeper, something ingrained in his very soul.
The group soon arrived at a large circular platform, cracked but still intact, with intricate carvings spanning its surface. At the center stood a monolithic slab of stone covered in ancient script, glowing faintly in the dim light.
"This is the Record of the Forgotten," the old man announced. "One of the few remnants of a history erased by those who fear its truth. It speaks of a war that shaped the world as we know it, and of those who sought to defy fate."
Kaizen stepped closer, running his fingers along the carvings. The symbols were foreign yet strangely familiar. He could almost hear whispers in the wind, voices from a time long past.
"And what does this have to do with me?" he asked.
The old man studied him for a long moment before speaking. "Because, Kaizen, your existence is not coincidence. You are tied to this history in ways you have yet to understand. The blood in your veins carries the echoes of that forgotten era. You are a remnant of something greater."
Silence fell over the group. The weight of the old man's words pressed against Kaizen like an unseen force. He had suspected there was more to his past than what he knew, but to hear it confirmed was another matter entirely.
Rei crossed her arms. "So what now? You expect him to pick up some ancient war? To fight against the powers that be?"
The old man shook his head. "I expect nothing. The path he chooses is his own. But the truth must be known, and choices must be made."
Before Kaizen could respond, a deep rumbling sound echoed through the ruins. The ground trembled beneath their feet, dust cascading from the surrounding structures. From the shadows, figures began to emerge—silent, armored warriors with glowing eyes, their weapons drawn.
The old man's expression darkened. "It seems they have finally come. The Watchers of the Past. Guardians of the lost knowledge. And they do not take kindly to intruders."
Kaizen drew his blade, his instincts flaring. "Then it looks like we're going to have to make them listen."
As the warriors closed in, the air crackled with tension. The past was no longer content to remain buried. And Kaizen was about to find out just how much it demanded to be heard.
The battle for the truth had begun.