The wind howled across the rooftop as Nakato's black flames coiled around his arms like serpents. Director Kuroto stood silhouetted against the rising sun, his silver hair whipping like a battle standard. Twelve sniper dots danced across Nakato's chest, each one a promise of death.
"Last chance, boy." Kuroto's voice carried the weight of decades of command. "Come quietly, and your friends walk away."
Hinako's daggers were already spinning. "Like hell."
Daisuke's fingers flew across his wrist display, sweat dripping onto the glass. "I can scramble their tracking systems for maybe thirty seconds—"
Ryujin stepped forward, his massive sword humming with pent-up energy. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you, old man?"
Kuroto's smile was a razor cut across his weathered face. "I knew you'd understand eventually." He raised a single finger.
The first sniper round cracked through the air—
—and shattered against an invisible barrier inches from Ryujin's forehead.
Daisuke whooped. "Got your back!" His holographic display flared as dozens more shots impacted the shimmering blue shield. "But we've got about twenty-five seconds now!"
Nakato's flames roared to life. "Then we make them count."
**BOOM.**
The rooftop exploded into chaos. Ryujin launched himself at Kuroto, their swords meeting in a shower of sparks. Hinako became a crimson blur, her daggers deflecting bullets as she closed in on the nearest sniper nest.
Nakato focused on the fire.
Not just controlling it—*listening* to it.
The black flames whispered secrets in a language older than words. They showed him patterns in the gunfire, gaps in the kill box. He moved like liquid shadow, weaving between plasma rounds as his fire lashed out in precise whips. Two snipers screamed as their rifles melted in their hands.
"Interesting." Kuroto parried Ryujin's overhead strike with terrifying ease. "He's already manifesting the Blood Memory."
Ryujin's golden eyes widened. "You bastard. You *wanted* him to see—"
A brutal kick sent Ryujin crashing through a ventilation unit. Kuroto adjusted his cufflinks as he strode toward Nakato. "Shall I show you your birthright, boy?"
The Director's sleeve tore away as black flames—*identical to Nakato's*—erupted from his arm.
Hinako gasped mid-leap. "Impossible!"
"The first successful hybrid," Kuroto corrected, his flames forming a perfect sphere. "The prototype for Project Phoenix." He gestured at Nakato. "And you? You're the *original.* The only naturally born Shadowborn in existence."
The revelation hit like a physical blow. Nakato's flames sputtered as memories not his own flooded his mind—
—*A sterile lab. A crying infant held down as needles pierced tiny arms. A woman screaming "Don't take him!"*
The pain nearly dropped him to his knees.
Daisuke's voice cut through the fog. "Nakato! The regulator!"
His wrist device was beeping frantically: **[BLOOD MEMORY OVERLOAD - CONTAINMENT FAILURE]**
Kuroto's smile turned predatory. "Ah. The memories of your true mother are surfacing."
Ryujin's roar of rage shook the rooftop as he charged, his sword wreathed in golden energy. Kuroto barely turned in time to block, the force of the impact sending both men skidding backward.
"Go!" Ryujin snarled over his shoulder. "The safehouse! Coordinates—"
A brutal elbow to the throat cut him off.
Hinako didn't hesitate. She grabbed Nakato's arm and yanked. "We have to move!"
Daisuke was already at the roof's edge, hacking the maintenance drone hovering there. "I can override this thing for a quick escape, but—"
A shadow fell over them.
Nakato looked up to see Kuroto standing atop the drone, his blade dripping with Ryujin's blood. "Did you really think I'd let my greatest creation walk away?"
Hinako moved first. Her daggers flashed silver as she vaulted upward—
—only for Kuroto to catch both blades barehanded.
"Predictable." He snapped the daggers like twigs.
The kick sent Hinako flying off the roof.
"Hina!" Daisuke lunged for the edge, too slow—
Nakato's body moved on instinct. His flames *screamed* as he dove after her, the regulator shattering from the sudden power surge. The world narrowed to Hinako's falling form, the wind rushing past, the ground looming—
*"Grab on!"*
His black fire solidified into chains that lashed around Hinako's waist just as his other hand caught a protruding beam. The jerk nearly dislocated his shoulder, but Hinako swung safely against the building's side.
Above them, Kuroto watched with clinical interest. "Fascinating. The self-preservation instinct is weaker than the protective drive." He raised his sword. "Let's test that."
The blade came down—
—and met Ryujin's cleaver with a thunderclap.
"RUN!" The veteran fighter roared, golden energy flaring from every pore. "I'll hold him!"
Daisuke's stolen drone swooped down, its overloaded engines smoking. "Now or never!"
Nakato hauled Hinako onto the drone just as Kuroto's laughter rang out across the rooftop.
"Find the truth in the ruins, Nakato! See what your precious parents *really* were!"
Then they were airborne, the wind whipping away Ryujin's final battle cry as Kuroto's sword flashed gold—
—and the entire rooftop exploded behind them.