The crow came before dawn.
Its talons scratched against the roof of the hut as it squawked, voice clipped and urgent.
"Sasuke Uchiha. You are summoned. Hashira Council. Immediate attendance required."
Renjiro, swaddled in bandages, flinched. "You're being summoned? Already?"
Daiki, silent and stern despite his own injuries, glanced at Sasuke. "Don't show weakness. The Hashira aren't easily impressed."
Sasuke tied his sword across his back, glanced at the fog outside the window, and nodded once. "I'm not going to impress them. I'm going to be understood."
The Hashira Estate was unlike anything Sasuke had seen since arriving in this world.
Built into the mountainside and carved from obsidian and pale wood, the compound overlooked the vast forests of the East. A circular hall stood at the summit—open, windblown, and sacred.
Sasuke stood in the center of it.
Surrounded.
To his right: Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira, white-haired and bristling with scars. He glared at Sasuke with disgust, arms folded.
To his left: Obanai Iguro, the Serpent Hashira, silent, half his face masked, snake coiled around his neck, watching Sasuke with cold calculation.
In front of him: Giyu Tomioka, the Water Hashira, standing calm, unreadable.
Behind them all: Kagaya Ubuyashiki, the Master of the Demon Slayer Corps, pale and serene despite the sickness twisting his features. His voice was like soft rain.
"You carry no known Breathing Style. You possess no training. And yet you injured Upper Moon Six."
Sasuke said nothing.
Sanemi stepped forward, scoffing. "He's a freak. That mark on his face—it doesn't come from discipline. It came out of nowhere. That's not a Slayer. That's a risk."
Obanai nodded slowly. "No known lineage. No master. No record. And yet he manifests a Breathing Style we've never seen?"
Giyu spoke quietly. "He saved the lives of two Slayers. He didn't run."
"Yet," Sanemi snapped. "The next time, maybe he kills them too."
Kagaya raised his hand, and silence fell.
"Sasuke Uchiha," he said. "Tell us… what are you?"
Sasuke looked up at him, eyes sharp and direct.
"I am a man born in a different world. A soldier who once fought to protect his village… then to destroy it. I've lived and died with regret. But now I've been given a second chance."
He reached up and touched the mark across his face, now faintly glowing under the sunlight.
"I don't know why I was brought here. But I know this: demons don't deserve to live. And I'll kill them. All of them. Until my blade breaks, or I fall."
A heavy pause.
Obanai's snake hissed softly. Sanemi clenched his jaw.
But Kagaya… smiled.
"You remind me of another once lost," he said softly. "Very well. You will be watched. Closely. You will receive no pardon for failure. But… you will train."
Sasuke bowed his head slightly.
"Under whom?" Giyu asked.
"I believe," Kagaya said, "the choice is clear."
That evening, Sasuke was sent to the Wind Hashira's domain—Sanemi's territory.
The training grounds were brutal.
Steep cliffs, constant wind, blades buried in the earth like tombstones.
Sanemi tossed a wooden sword at Sasuke.
"You think you're strong. Fine. Survive three days in my terrain, then maybe I'll consider not gutting you."
Sasuke caught the blade and looked at the jagged cliffs.
Then he smirked.
"I've walked through fire. Wind won't break me."
As Sasuke trained—facing roaring winds and Sanemi's violent strikes—a memory bloomed inside him.
Of his brother.
Of rage.
Of control.
And from the depths of his soul, a new technique emerged.
Shadow Moon Breathing: Second Form – Eclipse Waltz.
Fast. Graceful. A flowing rhythm of slashes that slipped between openings like moonlight slipping through branches.
Sanemi's eyes widened as Sasuke brushed past his guard during their second spar and left a cut along his sleeve.
"You bastard…"
But he grinned.
For the first time.
"You're starting to get it."