75 years ago, Earth.
Within the deep mountains, a dojo was built inside the thick forest with tall, wooden walls that echoed with the sounds of training warriors.
At the yard of the dojo, the white-clothed students punched air, their teacher observing their every move with a watchful eye.
The teacher was carrying a wooden staff, and at that moment, one of the students had a slightly wrong punching stance.
"Wrong!" The teacher smacked the staff at the student's knee. "Fix your form. Your form is ugly!"
"Y-yes, sensei!" The student breathed heavily, pain radiating from the spot where the staff had struck.
Inside the dojo, while others trained diligently, a young man used a cleaning brush and scrubbed the tatami mats until they glistened under the harsh fluorescent lights.
"Kiernan!" A senior student stepped over the tatami mats, his expression angry. "Where is my bokken?!"
"Huh?" Kiernan looked up at the senior student and smiled innocently. "I don't know. Did you misplace it?"
