A small snake traveled through a vent, sliding beneath multiple paintings toward a potted plant. Several more slid down, burrowing in other objects. They were made of metal, with machine-chiseled carbon plates and hinges.

The vent slid open as two squads of eight crawled out, traversing the walls, slipping by the patrols walking just below them. They journeyed through walkways and scaled the building, arriving at a locked door.

The leaders gestured using hand symbols, organizing their groups into formation.

-Krrk-

-Krrk-

- This is Codename Black Sparrow. We are in formation -

- This is Codename Sky 52. Roger that Black Sparrow, we’re also in position -

- Sky 52, the command is alpha-gamma-dusk, right? -

- Black Sparrow, that’s right -

- In and out in 5? -

- That’s the plan -

- Ok, 1, 2, 3 GO -

Shoulder-mounted turrets fired shots through the door as a hand was placed on the keypad. The lock was deactivated as the two squads pushed into the room.

Just a few dozen feet from the door were two dead bodies, thumbs glued to a switch. The bodies were positioned to lean against the wall. As more patrols entered the room, a quick shoulder shot eliminated them.

- Krrrrrrrk SW 9 o’cl -

- This is Sky 58. Sparrow 3 was killed. Shadowfiend is eliminated. Sky 53 has tuned the frequency -

- Roger that. Keep your eyes up. God bless our comrade -

- Roger. God bless our comrade -

The two squads moved deeper into the building, ambushing patrols more openly but silently. They stopped before a braille elevator, forcefully prying a side panel. A small opening was enough for them to squeeze through.

They climbed up the elevator shaft, through a side chamber, and down another shaft. A shadow flashed, killing a squad member by smashing them against a wall. The shadow flashed again, killing another squad member by smashing them against another squad member.

- Damn, what the hell was that? I lost contact with Sky 54 and Sky 56 -

- I didn’t see anything -

- F—k, let’s bail -

- Are you sure? -

- Something hella weird is going on -

- What about? -

- Mission probably failed. We just lost two good people to an invisible enemy. What else are we gonna do -

- Roger that, ret— -

Multiple shadows flashed out randomly, killing the rest of the squad.

(Huuuuuu)

(Haaaaa)

(Huuuu)

(Haaaa)

In the wide-eye camera lens, many shadowy battle-suits appeared briefly before disappearing.

——|——|—|—|——|——

(Whoosh) (Whoosh) (Whoosh) (Whoosh)

(Whoosh) (Whoosh) (Whoosh) (Whoosh)

(Whoosh) (Whoosh) (Whoosh) (Whoosh)

(Huuuu)

Rhythmic, steady punches permeated the air. That was the first thing Sikhail GodFiend saw upon entering the estate. Seeing a future generation of Supernatural Entities in training was a magnificent sight.

Although everyone saw his chiseled body and April’s perfect figure, they only took a deep breath before restraining their emotions. However, he was new here, so people continued to stare at him.

In front, the elder nodded with satisfaction.

“Elder… why does no one wear their uniform?” Sikhail asked.

“Well, if it helps them, they can wear it. If they are more comfortable wearing something casual, that’s fine too. I don’t have strict requirements,” the elder explained.

Many cherry blossom trees were next to the primary pathway. Hundreds of cats were walking, running, prowling, and lazily stretching on the ground. Some occasionally walked up to the trio, rubbing their heads on their legs. Dozens of ponds filled with jumping goldfish dotted the distance.

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As they headed deeper and deeper into the estate, the number of dojos increased. The Supernatural Path was a collection of many different interpreted styles.

“Initially, I taught a specific style, but over time, many sought Haven, attracted by the wonderful paradise here. I refused initially, but I eventually acquiesced after personally experiencing how weak they were even when together. A specific Supernatural style deals with the fluidity of being a freestyler. I have just the right mentor for that. She’s the only instructor that can stand her ground against me,” the elder explained after noticing Sikhail’s interest.

“Grandpa, do you mean Chantel?” April asked.

“Precisely. Based on your experience, I feel he would benefit more in her hands,” the elder nodded.

“I’ll take grandpas word on that,” April relented after thoughtfully rubbing her chin with her hand.

“Silly girl, you can still teach him if you want,” the elder chuckled as he shook his head.

“I’ll test him out after training,” April replied with a chuckle.

‘Fluidity, not being tied to anything. I have many different styles to pull from to start with,’ Sikhail thought.

“Chantel prefers to stay near me. She sees me as a fatherly figure. Her parents went off on a mission and have yet to come back. That’s when she traveled the world and found me. She hopes to find a hint as to where they are. Did you learn anything from your recent spar with April?” the elder expanded on her history.

“Elder, I did indeed learn a lot. Hopefully, I won’t be an embarrassment in front of Ms. Chantel,” Sikhail replied.

Eventually, they reached a residence where there was an abundance of cherry blossom trees. The elder gestured them in before bringing out some flavored water and tea. He and April took the flavored water while the elder sipped his tea.

“Sikhail. At my dojo, what you’ll learn primarily is technique. How you choose to apply those techniques is up to you. However, I hope you don’t stray down the wrong path,” the elder said solemnly.

“Elder, don’t worry. I understand what it means to be weak. I also understand what it means to be strong,” Sikhail replied.

“Elder Sigfrey, it’s me!” a voice reached them, interrupting the conversation.

“Oh! It’s Chantel. Come, let me introduce you to her,” the elder said with a smile.

As Sikhail exited the building, he saw a woman in her mid 20’s. She sported a blue ponytail, a tank top, and ripped jeans. Her eyes were a deep ocean blue, deep enough to swallow thoughts in an invisible tide.

As he examined her, she examined him. She found it hard to look away from the muscles. He was shirtless, but it went well with his demeanor. The fleeting interest in his eyes compelled an endless curiosity in her.

“So you’re Sikhail GodFiend?” Chantel asked.

“Yes,” Sikhail nodded.

“I heard you beat Elder Sigfrey’s granddaughter? I’d like to spar with you to understand what I’m starting with. She’s… easier than me,” Chantel said, throwing a jab at April.

“Hmph! Just wait until I’m as good as grandpa!” April snorted.

“Naturally,” Chantel smiled.

“Sure,” Sikhail responded.

“Feel free to make a move. A true soldier can fight in any circumstance. You were drafted into the military under the government’s sudden change, right?”

“Yes,” Sikhail responded.

After waiting a while, Sikhail still did not move.

“That’s not good, Sikhail,” the elder said, caught off guard.

“I think his instincts are there, but not the full instincts,” April said thoughtfully.

“Not his full instincts? Ok, I’ll make a move then,” Chantel asked curiously.

Chantel walked, jogged, then broke into a full sprint as she dashed at Sikhail. He just stood there as she turned into lightning. He leaned in a certain direction as a punch appeared where his head had been. He raised his foot, stopping a knee before pushing out with his foot.

As they circled each other, she fired a few shots. He dodged them with ease, causing her to frown a little.

“As a supernatural expert, you use guns?” Sikhail asked.

“The Supernatural Path doesn’t care about what you use. A gun allows me to rest while being on the offensive. It’s even possible to translate supernatural techniques into gunplay,” Chantel explained.

“Gunplay?” Sikhail asked.

“Let me show you. Let’s head to the training facility,” Chantel nodded.

“April and I will attend to other things. Sikhail, good luck with Chantel!” the elder dismissed himself.

After traveling for a while, the duo entered a building with many training dummies. Some were short, some were tall, and some were huge.

(Whirrrr)

They sank into the ground, rose and moved erratically, and spun.

“The Supernatural Path is all about adaptation. Your opponent will attempt to put you at a disadvantage, knowing you’ll put them at a disadvantage. Being able to connect your hit is important,” Chantel explained.

Chantel dove into a sea of dummies, spinning the trigger around her finger. She was careful, never actually tapping the trigger.

“You’ll need to practice with a blan-,” Chantel wanted to say, but her eyes widened the next moment.

Gun spinning was a basic *trick* from his memories, used for non-threatening situations, typically on a handgun. The rate of fire depended on how fast you could tap the trigger. Because the trigger was spun faster than it was tapped, it was a popular strategy among those who weren’t Rogues but appreciated the natural speed advantage of Rogues.

Since you didn’t want to hit yourself, gun spinning was usually done by raising your hand or aiming the gun barrel elsewhere.

At higher levels of skill, you could even use the short window where the grip spun into your palm to land a more devastating shot.