Sero was standing on the shore looking over the waves slowly and repetitively rolling in from the ocean. His dull grey eyes looked at the tide with little emotion towards its serenity. The ocean seemed calm as far as he could observe. The fog bank dimmed and ultimately cut off looking too far. He was a soldier here. These islands hidden in the mist. He had been shattered as a child and then sharpened and honed by the harsh reality that was survival. Where others built relationships with people he focused on his understandings with weapons. How to wield them, what it felt to cut another person and how his own body could move to harness the true abilities of a swordsman. His nights and holidays not building memories but studying the human anatomy. He barely recalled now feeling sick with his first kills. How many times he had emptied his stomach when forcing himself to take apart the bodies piece by piece to study where the vitals were and how deep. He vaguely remembered the shine fading from his eyes each time he dry heaved over another body. Now he felt nothing when he took them apart. Just a vague memory and a practiced set of strikes.
Still his boots shifted on the rocky beach as he turned, His grey robes shifted in the breeze he assumed was cold. He couldn't feel that either. Yet another part of him that had died. He didn't have a sense of touch anymore. Perhaps it was due to practice of shutting down his senses one at a time that had left it off and could not be turned back on or his body had suffered so much pain during his early training stages that the brain refused to acknowledge anything be it pain or pleasure or everything between the two. He had beaten his body into a half dead thing for the longest time he could hardly remember feeling anything. His left hand lifted as he studied it held at arms length as if reaching across the oceans. His pale fingers outstretched as if reaching for something. Faded scars decorated his exposed skin in harsh patterns from poorly healed wounds. Still he only seemed to reach for a moment, reaching for memories he couldn't manage to grasp before he was done. The ideal of regaining humanity fleeting as his left hand dropped to rest on the hilts of his two swords, A wakizashi and a Katana on his left hip. Two weapons he was decent with among the many he could use. He felt this would be all he needed however.
Still his right hand shifted as he looked down at the air tank it was holding. A single tube leading out to a breathing mask. He wasn't here to simply reminisce at the beach. He was heading down to a sunken city to collect forgotten treasures as he was ordered. Another mission they had assigned him to. The excavation team had been wiped out when they went down there each time and each time they had sent someone to deal with a creature. Rumor had it the creature was immortal. Now instead of excavation teams they sent skilled shinobi down there to collect what they could find and escape. However this mission had been optional to Sero. As if he wouldn't accept the task. He was eager to test himself against the monster of the forgotten city. It was a rare hint of emotion that he displayed before he really unleashed. Even now his dead grey eyes seemed to glint as he tilted his head. He was going to face off against something that many people feared with no back up. He wondered if he was finally put down if anyone would find his body. If not he supposed he didn't care. An animal like him didn't pity itself. If anything he was looking forward to the encounter. He was going to step away from any population that he would of had to mind before. He was finally going to be able to let go and lose control. He was going to get to test his boundaries against an immortal being and it excited him greatly.
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