(Late night. Candlelight flickers in the headquarters tent on the northern front.
Papers scattered across the table — maps, casualty reports, movement plans.
Minato sits alone, in a simple red uniform, his gaze lost in the candle flame. His katana is standing in the corner, and a cigarette is slowly burning in his hand. The wind is heard hitting the canvas of the tent.)
(The curtain moves quietly — Niya enters. Her steps are quiet, her gaze is determined, but deep down something softer than usual.)
Minato (not looking up):
"It's late, Nia. You should be on vacation."
Nija (calmly, glancing over the paper):
"I rest better when I know someone is thinking of everything."
(Minato glances at her briefly, his smile barely visible.)
Minato:
"And you think I mean everything?"
Nija (coldly, but with a slight tone of irony):
"I know you're thinking too much.
Especially since we lost people in the ambush."
(Silence. Minato puts his cigarette in the ashtray. Smoke rises between them, like a wall they can't cross.)
Minato (quietly):
"Every time I close my eyes, I see them again.
People, convoys, Arden jumping before that lightning strike...
Sometimes I wonder — is it courage or madness."
(Niya pauses, looks directly at him, her eyes tremble barely perceptibly.)
Nia:
"Maybe it's the same.
It's just that some people die because of it… and some become legends."
(Brief silence. Minato stares at her, trying to read her face, but it remains still, closed.)
Minato:
"You're worried about him."
(Niya looks down, her tone softening subtly — but admits nothing openly.)
Nia:
"I'm worried about anyone who wears a mask.
When you look through it for too long, you start to forget your own face."
(Minato gets up slightly, walks over to the table and hands her the map — pointing to the front line with his finger.)
Minato:
"Tomorrow we will continue towards the mountains.
Where the snow never melts and Voltaris still hides.
If Arden goes with you, keep him away from the front lines. He has not yet recovered."
(Niya crosses her arms, her tone becomes a little more defiant, but there is a slight warmth in her eyes.)
Nia:
"Vex doesn't know about recovery.
He only knows how to fight."
(Minato gives a short smile, but it's not a smile of joy—more of an acknowledgment.)
Minato:
"Just like his brother."
(Niya looks at him — for a moment, their gaze lingers. Something sparkles in her eyes, something between respect and something deeper, but she immediately covers it with a cold expression.)
Nia (calmly):
"Then I guess you both don't know how to stop."
(Minato turns, picks up a cigarette, and slowly opens the curtain of the tent. Moonlight streams in, illuminating them both. Silence lasts for a few seconds—just the sound of wind and distant barking.)
Minato (quietly, more to himself):
"Perhaps… but someone has to stay to remember those who did stop."
(Niya takes a step back, looks at him one last time—a look that lasts a second longer than it should. Then she just nods and walks out. The candle flame flickers and the cigarette smoke still hangs in the air.)
Narrator:
"In the night of silence, between smoke and memories, a spark was born.
But in the North — even a spark can become a storm."
— END OF SCENE 1 —
(Morning on the northern front. The air is cold, sharp and full of the smell of burnt earth. In the distance, the smoke from yesterday's fighting is still visible.
Arden sits in front of the tent, dressed in the black Shadow uniform, hood down. In his right hand he holds a metal cup with hot coffee, in his left a slowly burning cigarette.
Half of his face is in shadow, and over his left eye — a thick bandage, still soaked with a fresh trace of blood.)
(Footsteps approach. Taro, dressed in battle gear, approaches quietly, without a word. Sits next to him. They are silent for a while, the steam from the coffee disappearing into the cold air.)
Tarot:
"You didn't sleep."
Arden (cold, with light cigarette smoke):
"I can't when I'm dreaming what I've already lived through."
(Taro looks at him — he sees his fatigue, but also that same coldness that makes him impenetrable.)
Tarot:
"How's the eye?"
(Arden exhales smoke slowly. He is silent for a moment, as if he needs a second to decide whether to answer at all.)
Arden:
"He's gone.
But I can feel it… like it's still burning."
(Taro smiles slightly, but there is bitterness in that smile.)
Tarot:
"So the fire in you hasn't died either."
Arden (coldly, without emotion):
"Fire never dies. It just changes form."
(Silence. The wind carries cigarette smoke. A military bugle is heard in the distance — a signal for the units to wake up. Arden does not react.)
Tarot:
"You know… when I saw you jump in front of that girl… I thought you were crazy."
Arden (calm, almost expressionless):
"Maybe I am.
But at least someone has to stay alive to heal."
(Taro looks at him, his tone softens, but retains a military firmness.)
Tarot:
"That girl, Lyra…she's been by your side all night.
When you passed out, she didn't move.
She said you didn't move, but your heart was beating like you were still fighting."
(Arden is silent. He looks at the cigarette smoke, then slowly squeezes his coffee cup with his fingers—so hard that his knuckles turn white.)
Arden:
"The heart may still be beating…but I don't know for whom."
(Taro looks down, not knowing what to say. Silence lasts for a few seconds. Arden stands up, throws away his cigarette, looks toward the horizon where the north wind is rising.)
Arden:
"War does not wait for us to recover."
(He turns and walks towards the tents. Taro stays looking at him—a friend he is finding harder and harder to recognize.)
Narrator:
"Sometimes the war does not take the body.
Take a look, take a silence...
And leave only what is still burning."
— END OF SCENE 2 —
(It's still early in the morning. Arden is standing outside the tent, wearing his new Shadow uniform — black, no symbols, with the hood down. His face is still maskless, the bandage over his left eye still fresh. He's checking the katana in his hands, his movements precise, without unnecessary movement. In the background, the sound of preparation is heard — weapons, armor clanking, the whispers of ninjas getting ready to move.)
(The curtain of the tent moves, Nia appears. Her steps are quiet, sure. She is wearing a dark gray uniform with the red insignia of Captain Shadow. Her blue eyes flash when she sees Arden—or Vex.)
Nija (short, authoritative):
"Vex.
Get ready. We have a task."
(Arden turns to her. His eyes calm, emotionless. A faint trail of smoke on his face—he's just put out a cigarette.)
Arden (cold):
"Who's going?"
Nia:
"You, me… and the rest of the Shadow.
Reconnaissance of enemy lines north of Black Gorge.
If we find them, we leave no witnesses."
(Arden slowly takes the fox mask from the table. He looks at it briefly, as if he sees his old reflection in it.
The crack where the lightning blade passed shows a scar-like mark—the same line as on his eye.)
(As he places it on his face, Nia watches him. A brief flicker of worry flashes in her gaze, but her tone remains cool.)
"Twenty… maybe twenty-three.
(Vex doesn't sound off. He just pulls the katana out of its scabbard, and a little steam rises from it—warm air in the cold rain.
His fire is not a flame, but a pulse under the skin.)
Nia (whispering):
"No noise. Come in from the left. Me from the right."
(Shadow parting. Silence. Sounds of rain and wind.
A guard from Voltaris yawns, turns toward the darkness—and then sees something he shouldn't.)
Guard:
"Wait… that face… that mask… It's—"
(He didn't have time to finish. Flash — the katana cuts the air, a drop of blood falls on the stone.)
Second Guard (terrified):
"It's Vex! Run! It's bloody Vex!"
(The ambush turns into chaos. The rain gets heavier, the fire from the torches bursts in all directions.
Vex moves through the storm like a shadow — he strikes not with force, but with precision, every slash ending in death.
Flames flash from his palm—the katana ignites, the blade turning red, radiating heat that dries the rain around him.)
Enemy soldier (panicked):
"His blade… cuts like it has no heart!"
(Vex turns to look at him, his eyes shining through the mask.)
Vex (cold, quiet):
"The heart just slows down the hand."
(Cuts through him in one go. The sound of the katana and the hiss of steam as blood falls on the hot blade.)
(Niya on the other hand breaks the line, Shadow finishes the job.
In a few minutes — the camp is silent. Just rain and the smell of burnt earth.
Nija and Vex stand in front of the still smoking ashes. His katana is still burning, but he is calm—as if he felt nothing.)
Nia (quietly, looking at him):Our scouts were wrong. It's going to be bloody."
"You… really have no fear."
Vex (Cold, No Look):
"Fear?
He dies first."
(Thunder in the distance. Lightning illuminates the two on the edge of the cliff—warriors no longer distinguishing light from darkness.)
Narrator:
"That night, the name Vex was first whispered among the enemies.
And from whispers — fear was born."
(Night. The rain is still falling, but the fight is over.
The valley is silent—only the crackle of a dying fire and the smell of blood mixed with smoke.
The shadow retreats through the mist, their footsteps almost silent.
Niya casts a last look over her shoulder — the corpses of the enemy lie scattered, katanas in the mud, and the air thick with smoke.)
(Among the burned tents, several Lightning Clan soldiers move—barely alive.
One of them, seriously wounded, is trying to reach his comrades who are just arriving from the north.
He is trembling, his hand is bloody, his eyes are full of horror.)
Soldier Lightning (shaking, barely speaking):
"He…he was here…"
(His comrade picks him up, tries to close his wound.)
Second soldier:
"Who? Who was here?"
The wounded man (his voice cracks, almost a whisper):
"VEX…
He cut… as if he had no heart…"
(Silence. Only the wind passes through the ruined camp.
The sky clears, the moon rises — illuminating bodies, evaporating rain, and footprints disappearing into the mist.
Those words float in the night like a curse and a legend at the same time.)
"Since that night, the name Vex was no longer just a code name in the Shadow.
The stories spread through taverns, camps, and even to the very heart of the Fire Clan capital.
They spoke of a warrior whose blade knows no mercy, of a man who burns but feels not.
And so the myth about him was born...
Vex — Heartless Blade."