The sterile white lights of Kage Corps Medical hummed like angry wasps as Nakato sat on the examination table, his newly healed ribs throbbing in time with his pulse. Three days since the Titan attack, and his body still remembered every second of that fight.
"Quit squirming," grumbled Dr. Yukimura, a stooped old man with mechanical fingers that whirred as he adjusted an IV drip feeding Nakato some fluorescent green sludge. "That serum nearly cooked your insides. Be grateful Ryujin's healing Arts patched you up at all."
Nakato flexed his hand, watching black embers dance between his fingers. The flames came easier now, like breathing. "How long until I'm cleared for duty?"
"Against medical advice? Oh, about..." The doctor checked an imaginary watch. "Never."
The door hissed open. Hinako leaned against the frame, her usual leather armor replaced by a simple black tank top that showed off the fresh bandages wrapping her torso. "Stop whining. We've got orders." She tossed him a clean uniform. "Ryujin wants us in Briefing Room Alpha. Now."
---
The briefing room smelled of ozone and burnt coffee. Massive holographic displays flickered above the central table, showing rotating DNA models and battlefield footage from Shinjuku. Ryujin stood with his back to them, studying a screen displaying the Eclipse Cult's symbol—that damned black sun.
Daisuke already sat at the terminal, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Bandages peeked out from under his shirt collar, but his eyes burned with nervous energy. "You're gonna want to see this."
Nakato took a seat as the main screen lit up with a classified file stamped **"PHOENIX: EYES ONLY."**
"This," Ryujin said quietly, "is why the Cult wants you dead."
The footage showed a younger Ryujin—maybe early twenties—standing beside a man Nakato recognized instantly despite never having met him. The same sharp jawline. The same stubborn set to the eyebrows.
"Dad..."
Dr. Akira Mazui stood in a pristine lab coat, gesturing to a containment chamber where something massive and shadowy pulsed behind reinforced glass. The timestamp read **15 YEARS AGO.**
"Project Phoenix," Ryujin narrated as the video played. "An attempt to weaponize Shadowborn abilities against the Beasts. Your father believed he could distill the 'essence' of our Styles into something anyone could use."
The footage cut to a different scene—Akira injecting a glowing red serum into his own arm. His skin immediately blackened with crawling veins as flames erupted from his palms.
Hinako sucked in a breath. "He tested it on himself?"
"On all of us," Ryujin admitted, rolling up his sleeve to reveal old scar tissue in the shape of that black sun symbol. "I was his lead field tester. The serum worked—for about five minutes. Then..."
The next clip showed chaos. Alarms blared as the contained Beast in the lab grew three times its size, its body morphing into something eerily similar to the Titan they'd just fought. Akira shouted orders as the creature broke free—
The video terminated abruptly.
Daisuke swallowed hard. "The records say... the entire facility was vaporized. No survivors."
Nakato's hands clenched. "Except you."
Ryujin didn't flinch. "I was outside the blast radius. By the time I got back, the Eclipse Cult had already taken your father's research—and his body."
A cold realization settled over Nakato. "That Titan in Shinjuku... it recognized me because—"
"Because it was made from your father's work," Ryujin finished grimly. He tapped the console, pulling up a new image—a list of names beside DNA percentages. "They've been refining his serum. Turning living Shadowborn into..."
Hinako paled as she read the screen. "Into Beasts. On purpose."
Nakato's regulator suddenly beeped, its display flashing:
**[BLOOD CREST SYNTHESIS DETECTED - 82% MATCH]**
Daisuke adjusted his glasses. "That's why your flames could hurt the Titan when nothing else could. You share its DNA signature."
Silence hung thick in the room until Ryujin straightened. "Enough history lessons. We've got a new problem." He flicked another file to the screens—security footage from an hour ago.
A familiar lanky figure in a tattered lab coat moved through the shadows of Tokyo's underground tunnels.
"That's Dr. Kazuo," Daisuke gasped. "Our head of research!"
Ryujin's jaw tightened. "He stole the Phoenix Files this morning. And according to this?" The footage zoomed in on the man's wrist—where an Eclipse Cult tattoo gleamed. "He's been working for them the whole time."
Hinako was already strapping on her daggers. "Where's he headed?"
"Worse question," Nakato said, staring at the map now overlaying the screens. The tunnels led to one place—an old Kage Corps bunker directly beneath Tokyo's largest civilian shelter. "How many people is he planning to turn into Titans?"
Ryujin grabbed his sword. "Only one way to find out."
As they moved toward the door, Nakato's flames ignited on their own—not in anger, but something colder. Something deadly focused.
The hunt was on.