Darkness. Silence. A void without form or purpose.
Then—a spark.
Consciousness surged through him like a flood. Memories came rushing back. A world far removed from this one. A life that no longer existed.
He had been someone else once.
But now, he was Jayden Shiba.
A sharp cry escaped his lips, the first sound of his new existence. His limbs were weak, his vision blurry, but his mind—his mind was too sharp. Awareness settled in like an unshakable weight. He knew things no newborn should know. He understood what this world was. He understood his place in it.
He was not an ordinary child.
He was the heir of the Shiba Clan, the Red Ranger destined to lead the fight against the Nighlok.
And he was a pawn.
Through his hazy vision, he saw his father—Shiba Tanaka, the 17th head of the clan—standing over him. His gaze was proud yet burdened, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders.
Jayden already knew why.
He was never meant to be the true leader.
His father's plan was already in motion. The world believed Jayden was the only heir, but the truth was different. Hidden away was his older sister, Lauren. She was the one who would master the Sealing Symbol, the ultimate technique meant to imprison Master Xandred.
Jayden's role was simple—to be a decoy.
To take up the mantle of the Red Ranger. To buy time. To be the sword that fought while Lauren prepared to end the war.
It was a necessary sacrifice.
But what if it failed?
Jayden clenched his tiny fingers into a weak fist. He knew the truth. The Sealing Symbol was no guarantee. Even if Lauren succeeded, Master Xandred could return. And if that happened, then who would stop him?
Not Lauren.
Him.
And so, as his father carried him through the halls of the Shiba estate, as his mother whispered soft words of comfort, as the world welcomed his birth—Jayden made a vow.
He would not be a pawn.He would not rely on fate.He would become strong enough to defeat Master Xandred himself.
Even if the Sealing Symbol failed.
The Early Years
Jayden's training began earlier than anyone expected.
By the age of three, he was already gripping a wooden bokken, mimicking the sword forms of the warriors around him. His small frame struggled under the weight of the blade, but his determination never wavered.
His father watched him carefully, correcting his stances when needed but rarely offering praise. Praise was a distraction. Weakness was unacceptable.
Jayden understood.
Day after day, he trained. When his body failed him, he meditated. If his swings were too slow, he repeated them until exhaustion.
By the age of six, he was sparring with grown men. By eight, he could carve precise symbols in the air with a brush, controlling Symbol Power with a mastery far beyond his years.
And by nine, he wielded the Crab Disk—something no child his age should have been able to do.
The elders whispered. His retainers called him a prodigy. Even his father, though silent, seemed pleased.
But Jayden wasn't satisfied.
He could feel it—his progress was slowing. He had reached a plateau. His sword skills were improving, but not fast enough. His Symbol Power was strong, but not limitless.
It wasn't enough.
And not enough meant death.
So he pushed himself harder.
When training in the dojo became too easy, he moved to the lakes, practicing sword swings while waist-deep in water. When that became effortless, he moved to the rivers, fighting against the currents to refine his balance.
And finally, when even that failed to challenge him—
He stood beneath a waterfall, enduring its relentless force as he trained for hours.
The pain was unbearable. His muscles screamed in protest. But he did not stop.
Because he knew—this was only the beginning.
The Weight of Duty
His father rarely spoke of emotions, but Jayden understood the burden he carried.
The 17th head of the Shiba Clan was not just a leader—he was a man preparing to send his son into war.
And so, the moments where Tanaka spoke as a father rather than a clan leader were rare, but they mattered.
One evening, after another grueling day of training, Tanaka stood beside Jayden as he watched the sunset over the estate.
"You've grown strong," he finally said, his voice calm yet firm.
Jayden, now eleven, glanced up at him. It was the closest thing to praise he had ever received.
"But strength alone is not enough," his father continued. "Duty is heavier than the sword you carry. You know this, don't you?"
Jayden nodded.
His father studied him for a long moment before placing a hand on his shoulder.
"The day will come when you must stand alone. When you will carry the weight of this clan on your own." His grip tightened. "When that day comes, do not waver. Do not hesitate."
There was a pause.
"I am proud of you, my son."
And just like that, the moment passed. His father turned, walking away, leaving Jayden alone with his thoughts.
Pride. Duty. Strength.
Jayden would carry all of it.
TO BE CONITUED