The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, a dense tangle of ancient trees with bark like scarred stone and leaves that whispered secrets in the wind. Mist clung to the ground in thin, shifting layers, curling around the twisted roots like ghostly fingers. Shafts of moonlight pierced the canopy in narrow beams, casting flickering shadows across the underbrush. The air was thick—damp with the scent of moss, earth, and something fainter... something metallic. It was the kind of place that felt alive, and not in a comforting way.
Too alive. And too quiet.
Nick's boots crunched softly against the dirt path, each step somehow louder than the last. The moon hung low, casting silver bars of light between the trees. He felt it—something was watching him. Waiting. His breathing slowed. His nerves raw and tingling.
Then came the sound.
A wet dragging noise. Slow. Wrong. And then—A voice, soft and mocking: "You're not from around here, are you?"
Fear slammed into Nick like a wave. His body moved on instinct, diving into a bush—but not fast enough. A long, rancid tongue slashed a perfect square across his arm. The pain was instant, searing.
He couldn't breathe.
His lungs screamed for air, but panic had its hands around his throat. His limbs were lead. His thoughts splintered. Move, Nick, move—why can't you move? He could feel the venom pulsing under his skin. His heart thundered. His vision blurred.
The snake demon's movements were erratic, jerky—yet eerily controlled. Its eyes glowed with cruel amusement, as if toying with him.
Nick's mind screamed, This is it. This is how I die. Killed by something that shouldn't exist, in a world I don't understand. All those years wasted behind a desk... all that money... and it ends here?
He clenched his jaw. No. No. Not like this.
Then came the sound of footsteps—light, deliberate.
From the trees emerged a man, probably in his thirties, with long bluish hair that brushed his shoulders. He moved with precision, each step silent, each motion fluid like water. His sword gleamed in the moonlight, already poised.
Nick's heart fluttered—was this salvation?
The man whispered, "Water Breathing, Second Form: Water Wheel."
With a sweeping motion, the blade arced like a crashing tide.
The snake demon shrieked and turned its focus to the new threat. Their eyes locked—a silent challenge. The two clashed, steel against claw, grace against savagery. The slayer moved with sharp, practiced precision—slashes, thrusts, counters. The demon danced away each time, its footwork almost supernatural.
Then the slayer roared, "Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux!"
Power surged through the air. The demon staggered, caught off guard by the changing rhythm. For a moment, everything froze—the rustling leaves, the crow's distant cry, even time itself.
The man grinned. "Gotcha."
His blade flashed like lightning. The demon's head flew from its shoulders, landing with a heavy thud as dark blood pooled into the soil.
Silence returned.
Only the faint drip of the demon's blood and the rustle of leaves remained.
The slayer exhaled deeply, the tension in his body releasing. He turned toward Nick, eyes sharp but kind.
"Are you alright?" he asked, voice calm but edged with concern.
Nick sat up slowly, his limbs still trembling. He wiped dirt and blood from his face, forcing a bright smile. "I'm fine, thank you. How about you?" he said, trying to sound cheerful—brave. But inside, he still felt like that terrified boy, frozen as death loomed inches from his throat.
He looked at the man. This is what I want to be. Not afraid. Not helpless. Someone strong enough to stand when monsters come.
"I want to be like you, sir," Nick said quietly. "I want the strength to fight things like that without fear."
The man studied him, eyes narrowing, searching. Lines on his face told stories of battles past, of choices made and consequences carried. Then he nodded.
"Listen, kid. My name is Takashi Akira. I'm what they call a Demon Slayer."
He straightened, a steady strength in his posture. The moonlight outlined him like a hero in a dream.
"We are a special brigade tasked with protecting the world from entities that hide in the dark—demons. We don't do it for glory. We do it so others don't have to die scared and alone."
Nick's breath caught in his throat.
Takashi continued, voice quieter now. "I can train you. But whether you become a Demon Slayer… that depends on your talent—and your will."
Nick looked down at his hands, still shaking, still stained with blood. But the fear that had paralyzed him was gone. Replaced by something harder. Something colder. Resolve.
"I'm ready," he said.
Takashi smiled faintly. "Good. Then let's begin."
They began walking together, retracing the path through the forest. Nick now noticed how silent the world was after death had passed through it. The trees no longer whispered threats—they stood still, as if honoring what had taken place.
As they walked, Nick found his gaze drifting to the details—the soft flicker of lantern bugs between trees, the distant chirping of insects returning. His body ached, but each step forward steadied his soul.
After a long walk, the forest finally parted.
Below them was a village.
Nick blinked in wonder. The town seemed untouched by time—wooden homes with sloped tiled roofs, lanterns glowing gently on porches, narrow stone paths weaving between cherry blossom trees. Though rustic, the place pulsed with life: children laughing, a smith hammering steel, steam rising from a bathhouse chimney.
It wasn't flashy. It wasn't modern.
But it was warm.
Safe.
They passed a woman sweeping her porch. She paused and bowed slightly. "Slayer-san," she whispered in respect.
Takashi returned the nod, then led Nick through a winding alley to a modest house tucked at the village's edge. The dojo.
The home was traditional—wooden floors, paper doors, a small shrine in the corner. Weapons lined one wall neatly, and the smell of sandalwood incense drifted through the air.
Nick stepped inside, exhaling slowly.
I'm still alive, he thought. And this is where it starts.
Takashi looked back at him and said, "Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we begin your path."