The sun had just climbed higher when Yamato arrived at the address scribbled on the card. The house looked ordinary, too ordinary for someone who spoke of destiny.
He knocked once, then pushed the door open. Inside… what he saw nearly made him turn back. The old man was dancing clumsily, swaying side to side while humming along with the women singing on the TV. His arms moved like broken sticks, his feet shuffling to a rhythm only he understood.
Yamato blinked, deadpan.
"…I'm not really sure about this."
The old man finally turned, his face frozen in a goofy, almost drunken grin.
"Welcome home!".
Yamato's eyebrow twitched. His serious aura clashed violently with the ridiculous scene before him. He folded his arms, irritation showing in his sharp gaze.
"I'm here. So when does the training begin?"
The Shaman stopped, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. Slowly, he walked closer, the playfulness leaving his face.
His voice dropped, calm and steady. "Training? Hm… That depends, boy. Tell me first… do you even know what you're really fighting?"
Yamato narrowed his eyes. "…"
The old man gestured toward the inner room. "Come inside. There are truths about your power that no book, no teacher, and no academy will ever tell you. You've been given a divine ability, and if you want to control it, you must first understand the secrets it holds."
Yamato hesitated at the doorway. The man's earlier silliness seemed to vanish, replaced by an overwhelming presence, like a storm hidden beneath calm waters. For the first time, Yamato felt it.
The Shaman leaned back, his playful aura completely gone.
His eyes, old yet sharp, fixed on Yamato. "Did you study history while growing up?" Yamato nodded. "Yeah, I did… but what about it?"
The Shaman gave a faint smile. "That's good. Because the power you carry isn't just any ability… it's called the Six Eyes."
Yamato tilted his head, pretending to pay attention, though curiosity gnawed at him.
He suddenly raised his hand. "Uh… question, sir. Why does this house feel so weird, like it's haunted?"
Before he could blink...
BAM!
Two ghostly feet struck his face, throwing him to the ground.
"Gah! What was that for!?" Yamato groaned, clutching his head.
The Shaman calmly folded his arms.
"This house is protected by a barrier. Nothing and no one can enter unless I grant them passage with the invitation card I gave you. If you felt fear, that's because the house rejected you, testing your spirit."
Yamato's face shifted into understanding. "I see… okay."
The Shaman nodded, then continued.
"Now listen carefully. Your power... the Six Eyes, is no myth. The story told to children in the academy, the tale you all dismissed as legend… it's real."
Yamato's eyes widened. "Wait… what?"
"Yes." The Shaman's voice deepened, carrying the weight of centuries.
"It's a true story. I know what you're thinking, how could I know something so ancient if I haven't lived 800 years? But listen well… I once fought alongside the last bearer of the Six Eyes. Before you."
Yamato froze, confusion painted across his face. "S-sorry, could you elaborate?"
The Shaman raised a hand, silencing him.
His expression grew grave, almost reverent. "From here on out… don't speak. Just listen. The truth I'm about to reveal will either destroy you… or set you free."
Eight centuries ago, so the history books claim a great war raged across the land. A lone soldier rose from the chaos, a man named Sakamoto, and with unmatched might, he brought the conflict to an end. To the world, he was hailed as a hero…
But the truth was far darker.
Sakamoto's victory was no act of mercy, it was a calculated move to seize dominion over all nations. His blade carved peace, but his ambition carved chains. And just when the world had fallen into his grasp… he vanished.
No record of his death. No trace of his downfall. History writes him off as a savior who simply disappeared.
But the shadows whisper otherwise.
The shaman's eyes burned like embers as he spoke.
"Eight centuries ago Sakamoto brought the war to an end," he intoned, voice echoing in the shrine. "But not for peace. He carved victory to seize the world."
Yamato's breath hitched. The shaman didn't stop.
"His younger brother, Yoochi, twisted fate itself he cursed Sakamoto to never age, never die. He became a god in men's mouths: Father of all the supernatural, King of the World. Yet the truth? Sakamoto still walks. He is the heart of the Koruzan, the shadow that runs the world government."
Silence slammed into Yamato like a punch. He stumbled back. "W-what…?"
"The power Sakamoto holds can grant or steal abilities," the shaman continued, voice low as thunder.
"Yoochi's gift is the Six Eyes, the very power you bear. The younger brother had the One Eye. Its name is lost to history; nobody knows its power anymore. It may be extinct."
Yamato's hands trembled. "My… Six Eyes?"
"The Six Eyes manifest in stages," the shaman said, tracing colors in the air.
"Blue.. your current stage: razor-fast learning and analysis.
Red.. raw speed.
Yellow... control of time itself.
Navy.. mastery in battle.
Purple.. bloodlust, dangerous and wild.
And White.. liberation: absolute freedom, a genetic whisper of your purpose."
A hush fell. The shaman leaned forward, eyes soft and terrible. "You were born for one thing, boy: to drain the world of these powers and return them to the God who gave the three brothers their gifts."
Yamato felt the weight of destiny settle on his shoulders. Thunder rolled outside.
Yamato raised his hand slowly, his voice trembling.
"How… how do you know all this?"
The shaman's face tightened, shadows dancing across his wrinkles as the candlelight flickered. He let out a heavy breath.
"Because," the old man said, "my best friend.. though he is long gone now, was the Six Eyes before you."
Yamato froze.
The shaman's voice grew heavier.
"The Six Eyes is not passed down by choice. If one bearer dies, another is born. That is the covenant… and the curse Yoochi made with his elder brother, Sakamoto."
His gaze darkened.
"Fifteen years ago, we confronted Sakamoto himself. I fought by my friend's side. We met him face-to-face, but… even with all our strength, we weren't close to matching him. He killed my friend. He killed my wife. That day still bleeds inside me, boy. It feels like yesterday."
The old man's voice cracked as his eyes glimmered with old grief.
He fell silent for a long moment, then continued.
"When I returned home in despair, I heard a madwoman on the streets, crying out like a prophet. She shouted: 'Unto us a child is born, unto us a child is given. He will rebuke the heartless and save the insecure. He will strip this world of demonic power and bring a new age of peace. He will bear the Six Eyes and cleanse us. With two or more companions, he will surpass every evil."
The shaman's hands trembled as he recalled the scene. "Those were her words… before soldiers gunned her down where she stood. But she died smiling. Smiling! That's what confused me the most."
He clenched his jaw. "And so I realized… you are the only Six Eyes whose arrival was tied to a prophecy. That is why I tracked you down, following the pressure of your aura since the day you were born."
The air grew colder.
"Your mission," the shaman said, his voice turning into a low growl, "is to bring peace to this world.
The world looks peaceful now, but it is not. The Koruzan rule from the shadows, holding entire lands captive. Bounty hunters run markets where men and women are sold as slaves. Boy, it is up to you."
Yamato's throat went dry. Slowly, he asked, "What was the highest stage any Six Eyes bearer has ever reached?"
The shaman closed his eyes, voice filled with regret. "The highest ever reached… was the fourth stage. Yoochi himself awakened it. But no one no one in all of History has ever mastered the complete Six Eyes."
Yamato bowed his head, his bangs hiding his eyes.
His fists tightened as his heart pounded. "I understand… But I'll begin my journey. I want to decide with my own hands if I will take this quest or not."
The shaman studied him, then gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Your choice, boy. But know this... on this path, people will die for your steps… and others will live because of them. If you walk forward, there is no turning back."
Thunder cracked outside, rattling the wooden beams of the shrine. Yamato lifted his head, his eyes glowing faint blue in the dark.
"If that's the truth…" he whispered, "then I'll walk it."
The shaman's expression softened, but his voice was stern as iron. "Then go. Train. Gather allies. You'll need more than strength to face what rules this world. You'll need friends."
Rain began to fall outside as lightning slashed the sky.
And in the silence that followed, Yamato clenched his fists tighter. His journey had just begun.