Junichiro wanted to believe what Damien had just said was impossible. A bluff concocted out of bravado or another attempt to goad him into losing his composure. But for some reason, he knew what was said to be the truth. The human had somehow become their biggest obstacle. He turned to speed off in Avarice's direction. He figured if he could intercept Tymon to buy his father enough time to transform, his father could dispatch Tymon for the time being and focus his attention on the human. Junichiro and the twins would aid Wren and Trevor before focusing on Michael. Junichiro could vaguely sense each of the others around the world. He could tell how powerful the Primordials had gotten. They had not been prepared for this at all. This was the only way they could turn things in their favor. Before he could get far, Damien appeared before him, his palm firmly gripping his face, stopping him in place. "You're not trying to leave me, are you?" Damien said satirically as he sent a jolt of electricity through Junichiro's brain before throwing him back. Junichiro managed to stop before going too far, as his feet dragged across the ground and kicked up dirt. His knees felt weak from the shock as the world spun, but he remained standing. I am still too slow?! He thought in frustration, unable to outmaneuver Damien. "I'm curious," Damien started as he and Junichiro stood in the middle of the raging storm around them, Junichiro's wet hair stuck to his face, causing him to use a thumb to wipe it aside. "If you know Avarice's plans, why do you support him still? Why do any of you? Do you all feel no remorse for the species you once were part of?" Junichiro's expression faltered as he considered the question. His mind drifted to the past, recalling his terrible childhood and life up to being saved by Avarice before meeting Wren and Trevor, his cherished younger siblings. ****Over 1,200 years ago, Junichiro was born in the Edo period in a small rural village near the city of Edo (what would later be Tokyo, Japan). It was a poverty-stricken family he had the misfortune of being born into. Fortunately, he was too young to understand the daily misery he and his parents faced. His mother was kind and warm but was constantly sick for short periods. While his father would be out, he'd tend to her however he could. Eventually, though, he was seven, and his parents were foolish enough to bring another child into their somber world. By then, Junichiro knew that he was his little sister's best chance at survival—their mother was frail and sickly, while their father was a drunkard who'd disappear and drown his sorrows and depression in a bottle. Then, one day, when he was ten, their mother died from a prolonged illness, which left them in their father's care. He never hit them or directed anger toward them. In fact, he never touched them. It was like they did not exist to him. He hardly fed them, forcing them to go days without even a scrap of food. Yet he was never too malnourished himself. Eventually, that same year, their father abandoned them, leaving a note one morning stating he couldn't provide for himself and them. Not without their mother. The night before was the last time Junichiro ever saw his biological father's face. Junichiro spent the next eight years providing for himself and his sister by stealing whatever food he could. He became quite adept at it, donning a mask to protect his identity. Then, one day, his sister, now eleven, had fallen ill, and at eighteen, Junichiro traveled to Edo to acquire food, water, and anything else that could help her. It was his first time visiting Edo, which was larger than his broken town. With so many people to keep track of, his skills as a small-time thief were put to the test, but he was caught, and his mask was removed. Yet he escaped with food and herbs for his sister. However, little did he know then that he stole from a wealthy family that was considered royalty. Later in the year, while away procuring more provisions, that family's warriors found Junichiro's shed home. They'd used a drawing of his face and offered others food and water should they have information of his whereabouts. This incentive was impossible for anyone there to resist, but his sickly sister did. Her refusing to give up where he had gone resulted in his home being burned to the ground with her inside. When he'd returned, the others tried to explain, but the sight of his home devastated, his sister a charred, unrecognizable figure—everything he held dear to him reduced to ashes—lit a burning, white-hot anger within him. He remembered having the enticingly strong urge to kill everyone in the village but refrained, knowing they were desperate and knowing that other kids like him lived there. So, without thinking, he took off toward his stolen horse tied to a nearby tree on the edge of the village, intending to ride toward Edo in a blind rage, but an old man stood by his horse. It was an old man he'd seen often around the village. Usually, he was hunched over, smiling, and approachable, but today, he stood tall and formidable. "This is not a wise decision," the elderly spoke in Japanese. "There is too much hatred in your eyes." "Move if you wish not to be hurt," younger Junichiro threatened. "You would harm a helpless old man in your rash pursuit of vengeance?" Junichiro ran his eyes across the elder hesitantly. "Something tells me you are no helpless old man." "Hm...instead of going down your intended path, why not follow me," the elder suggested. Then, before Junichiro could object, he said, "I saw what the warriors did to your home. If you rush off with some notion of getting revenge as you are, I can assure you, you will die. After all, I trained the master who trained them. In fact, I personally trained most of the royal families' heads. If you do not wish to die pointlessly, then perhaps coming with me is your best option." Junichiro was stunned. "Who are you, exactly?" he inquired. "Oh, have I neglected to introduce myself? I am Miyamoto Musashi," the elder said casually with a gentle nod. Junichiro's eyes widened in disbelief. "The legendary samurai?!" "Oh no, I mistakenly gave you my original name," the elder laughed heartily. He seemed to have a careless nature. "Shh, my current name is ." "You are...wait...how...?" "There are many secrets to this world," the elder answered cryptically with a smile. "Anyhow," he clapped, "Do you wish to come with me now? Or will you continue to your death?" Calmer now, Junichiro bowed his head, choosing to follow. He walked silently behind the elder (who was surprisingly spry) until they reached a hut not too far from the village. Back then, Junichiro was too focused on how Takamori could help him to think to pry further into how he was alive and why he appeared old despite supposedly being born 39 years prior. Instead, he asked, "So, how will you help me? Will you train me as well?"