Somewhere in the heart of the Land of the Gods, among the thousands who fought for power, a monster was born.
No one knew of his true nature, or where he came from. No one even protested against him as he closed them off from the world, away from the influences of foreign philosophy or the opportunity to escape his iron grip over the lands as his warriors spread across villages and towns; seeking out and destroying those who would dare speak out against him.
In fact, it looked as if no one really wished to do so.
They mainly knew of a living deity, a human being who had united the provinces and domains in a network of peace and bureaucracy. After it seemed that he died, they built the monster a shrine in honour of his departure into the realm of the gods - a reward that could only be given to such a man who used great power, insight and affluence to bring peace after the previous years of fear and pain.
Particularly if these qualities were to secure an empire as the centuries wore on.
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Inside a building amidst the streets of Tokyo, two men in business attire were called to their master's hall. To the ignorant, their striking differences – short and tall, black and white – made them seem somewhat comical as they ascended the stairs to carry out their appointment, walking side by side. And yet, to the knowledgeable, they were part of a force to be reckoned with; should they be crossed and opposed while performing their duties. One could see that immediately, simply by spotting the red crest that sat high on their sleeves. And it was in allegiance to the man behind that crest that they were walking towards the most sacred part of the building, where most would not even dare to enter.
Before they could pass through, two masked guards in wide-rimmed hats crossed their weapons in front of the doors; red eyes looking down at the pair with the usual interrogation.
'Please; we have been summoned to speak with the Master.'
'Provide us with proof that this permission has been granted.' In response, the tall man in white lifted a hand into his coat and brought something out from his inside pocket, holding it face up for them to see. There was a slight hesitation, before a nod of approval was finally given.
'Proceed to enter.' The weapons slid away from the doors and towards the guards' sides as the two men in black and white bowed respectfully before continuing on with their duty. Not everyone was allowed into this sacred room by its owner, and not everyone was permitted to come inside even with such exclusively authorised identification.
Inside this large room – so large that it covered a quarter of the entire ground floor – was the throne of a criminal dynasty. The two men in black and white had learned to harness their fear long ago, and kneeled calmly before their lord as he remained seated at a level above them.
'You summoned for us, Master?' The Head of the Foot clan looked down on them, and began to unveil his plans.
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In another part of the building, on a different floor, a young woman was sharpening her skills in combat.
As much as she wouldn't have minded if her father was present to watch her, she knew that she had to do so without a partner or aide; since it would make the purpose of her training useless if she was to move on with what he taught her. Improving on her own was the only proper option, especially as he could drift back to New York at any given time to check on business and legal affairs. It had been like this for some years now, but it didn't mean that he had cut himself out of her life. He would never do that to her; his only student and protégé. And it was to honour such a considerate being that she was here today; refining what she learned from him against a lifeless opponent.
Well…that; and perhaps to curb down her own growing excitement at what was to come in three days' time.
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The guards stayed still as their master's visitors left the throne room of the Foot clan, ignoring them as they passed by. This wasn't always the case; occasionally guests would never walk out through these doors again, and it was usually the job of the lower ranks to make sure they were removed after the master had personally cut their visit short.
Fairly recently, the leader of a rather subordinate – yet highly regarded by even the civilian public – syndicate had entered through the doors of this room with his men in formal black suits, with an urgent request to speak to the Shredder about possible negotiations in the next few years. The guards were not actually present during the meeting. But it was their duty afterwards to take care of the old man's entourage before returning his head to his widow and now orphaned heir, warning them of what would happen if they dared to make any attempt at vengeance against the Foot.
The guards knew better than to question this. In fact, questioning what the master did would be to challenge the most powerful man they had ever known; the one whose control over thousands and intimate knowledge of the supernatural was worthy of the dedication offered to a deity among men. He was worthy of the dedication and devoted worship of countless others, especially those who focussed their entire lives on achieving a rank almost equal to his… To be even closer to this lord was the greatest honour for a warrior on earth.
Interestingly enough they didn't seem to think to themselves about what he was planning and how it would affect them personally, more than likely in a way in which they had never dreamed.
Author's note:
Remember Shredder's comment about the clan he brought to power with the Sword of Tengu? I thought I'd bring that in, if only briefly…
Thanks to Dierdre, Reijiro and Jessiy Landroiz for beta-reading. )
Foot clan belong to Mirage Comics and 4Kids! Entertainment.