The moon hung high in the night sky, casting an eerie silver glow over the Hand Clan base. Tomura was awakened by a soft knock on his door. He opened it to find a masked Hand ninja standing silently, holding out a rolled scroll. The ninja bowed slightly and vanished into the shadows as quickly as he had come.
Tomura unrolled the scroll, his sharp eyes scanning its contents. The mission was clear and concise: assassinate Ichirō Yashida, a powerful and wealthy industrialist with ties to the Yakuza. The message included a warning: Yashida was protected by highly trained guards and advanced security systems. Failure was not an option.
He packed lightly, bringing his sword, a set of throwing knives, and a small pouch of supplies. Before leaving, he glanced at the small Ferruginous Hawk he had been caring for, now resting peacefully in its enclosure. "I'll be back," he whispered, closing the door behind him.
The journey to Yashida's estate was long and perilous. The Hand provided him with transportation to the outskirts of Tokyo, but he had to traverse the rest of the way on foot, avoiding detection. The estate was a sprawling mansion surrounded by high walls and patrolled by armed guards.
Tomura crouched in the shadows, observing the guards' movements. Their patrols were disciplined but predictable. He waited patiently, his breathing steady, until the perfect opportunity arose. With silent precision, he scaled the wall and slipped into the estate grounds.
The first guard never saw him coming. A quick slice of his blade, and the man crumpled to the ground. Tomura dragged the body into the bushes before moving on. He repeated the process with two more guards, each kill as silent and efficient as the last.
Inside the mansion, the hallways were dimly lit, and the air was thick with tension. Tomura's footsteps were nearly inaudible as he navigated the labyrinth of corridors, avoiding cameras and motion sensors. He encountered more guards, but his training had prepared him well. Each encounter ended with a swift and silent death.
Finally, he reached Yashida's private quarters. The door was guarded by two men, larger and more imposing than the others. Tomura sized them up, his hand tightening around his sword. With a sudden burst of speed, he lunged at the first guard, his blade slicing through the man's throat before he could react. The second guard managed to draw his weapon, but Tomura was faster, disarming and incapacitating him with a single, fluid motion.
He pushed open the door to find Ichirō Yashida sitting at a desk, his expression a mix of surprise and fear. "Who are you?" Yashida demanded, his voice trembling.
Tomura said nothing, his eyes cold and unyielding. He approached slowly, raising his sword. Yashida stumbled backward, knocking over his chair in his panic.
"Wait! We can make a deal! I can give you anything you want—money, power—just name it!"
Tomura's expression didn't change. He stepped forward and placed the blade of his sword against Yashida's throat. "Your time is up," he said, his voice low and final. With one swift motion, he ended the man's life.
As he turned to leave, something caught his eye—a suit of armour displayed in a glass case. The design was sleek and imposing, crafted from gleaming silver metal. A nameplate at the base read Silver Samurai. Tomura felt an inexplicable pull toward the armour. He shattered the glass case and carefully donned the suit. The fit was perfect, as if it had been made for him.
He glanced at his reflection in the glass, the Silver Samurai armour transforming him into a fearsome figure. However, he knew it was too conspicuous to bring back to the Hand base. On his way back, he discovered a hidden cave and decided to stash the armour there for safekeeping. He marked the location in his mind, ensuring he could return for it when the time was right.
Carrying Yashida's severed head as proof of his success, Tomura returned to the Hand base before dawn. He delivered the grisly trophy to the head ninja, who nodded in approval. "You have done well," the ninja said. "Rest now. You will be called upon again soon."
Tomura retreated to his quarters, exhaustion beginning to take hold. As he lay on his bed, he couldn't help but think about the armour and what it represented. It was a symbol of power, a tool he could use when the time came.
Days passed, and life at the Hand base continued as usual. One morning, as Tomura sipped his tea in the common room, his eyes fell on a newspaper someone had left on the table. The headline caught his attention immediately:
"Tony Stark Kidnapped by Terrorists in Afghanistan"
Tomura's eyes narrowed as he read the article. The news stirred something within him—a sense of curiosity and foreboding. The world was changing, and he had a feeling that this event would mark the beginning of something much larger.
For now, though, he would wait and watch, preparing himself for the challenges yet to come.
(AN:THS WILL BE THE START OF THE CANON AND IF WANT TO KNOW THE VERESE IN THIS EARTH THEY ARE marvel x dc x the boys x invincible x RoboCop x Darkman x The Mask x The Rocketeer x Chronicle x The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension x Zebraman x Dick Tracy x Watchmen x The Super Inframan x Super x Hellboy x Blade x Kick-Ass x The Crow x Big Hero 6 x Hancock x Unbreakable x The Incredibles)