[h3]Japan[/h3]Sengoku Jidai
July 30, 1570


Minamoto Kenshi aimed down the barrel of his matchlock, his target charging forth with his spear drawn. He laughed, spears are meant to out range swords and yet here he stood, holding the gun to out range the spear. He pulled the iron lever, watching the burning rope slam into the powder catch, igniting the blackpowder inside. A sharp breath later, he made tiny adjustments to his stance; tightening of his legs, the loosening of his hands, the steadiness of his eyes that lined up to the front sight. He closed his eyes as the sparks flew into the barrel, opening them right as the lead ball prepared to fire.

[i]CRACK![/i]

The ball of lead bounced around the inside of the barrel, ricocheting like a child's ball in a hallway, leaving the barrel faster than any horse or arrow could hope to. And with unparrelled accuracy, met the enemy soldier straight in the eye, taking a bit of his skull and temple with it. Kenshi grinned, another kill with his god-like shooting skills, the [i]kami[/i] themselves jealous of it. He listened to the sounds of thunder the rest of the gunner showered down like a parade of death.

Hearing the leader's command to charge, he rallied the rest of the men to fight an die for the Oda Clan. With a quick draw of his katana, he slung his gun over his back and raced into the fray where swords and spears await the lucky and blood and death for the unfortunate. Literally jumping into combat, he cut down an enemy foot soldier before clashing blades with another samurai, his eyes full of honor and passion just like Kenshi's own black eyes.

Good men died all around them, to swords and spears, to arrows and polearms. Swing, parry, swing, block, across the chest and into block, Kenshi remembered his training as his feet adjusted for it. He tried to find an opening, a misstep, something that would allow him get a blow in, but the samurai's form was perfect. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a chance. 

Grabbing the edge of the man's armor, he dragged it down, pulling the man down with it. He lost his footing and Kenshi rushed in with his blade. Long before he hit the ground, Kenshi's blade was lodged in his throat. A quick slice out and a fine red mist spurted out, Kenshi looked back to see the enemy dead or dying on the ground. He raised his blade and cheered, echoing with his comrades who did the same, throwing up their swords and spears in victory.

In the middle of the cheer, Kenshi heard a whistling sound, then felt pain in his shoulder. He cocked his head and saw a long wooden arrow sticking out of where his shoulder blade was now searing in pain. Roaring as he snapped off the shaft, the rest of the soldiers prepared to fight as a new wave crashed into them from over the hills, indiscriminate arrow fire peppering the Oda troops before the charge made impact. Kenshi would never live to see it though. Stroke down by a  hail of arrows, dozens must have lodged themselves into every limb and every section of his body, bringing him to the ground on his knees before he collapsed under his back.

As the battle raged on, he reached towards the noon sun with an arm with less arrows in it, despite having mentally prepared himself to live and die on the battlefield, he wanted to coward out of it when he was at death's door. [color=aba000]"Please..."[/color] he groaned weakly, [color=aba000]"Dear [i]kami[/i], let me live..."[/color]

[color=00a651]"Volunteer number 0001, Minamoto Sagiahara Kenshi. Time period: Japan, Sengoku Jidai, the Age of the Country at War." [/color]a new voice drifted into Kenshi's dying ears and he promptly though he was going mad from the pain, [color=00a651]"Do you accept your task? You will be given new life upon acceptance."[/color]
[color=aba000]"W-what are y-you? A g-g-god?"[/color] Kenshi struggled to hear the voice over the sounds of war.
[color=aba000]"If it makes you feel any better, yes. Now, will you die here or will you accept your task?"[/color]

In his desperation to live, Kenshi accepted the task. The voice congratulated him as a body fell over, a spear still stuck in its chest. Kenshi yelled for the voice to return, [color=aba000]"Hey! W-where are you?! Are you going to leave me here?" [/color]
[color=00a651]"Digital download in process, please standby."[/color] the voice calmly said as Kenshi looked at his hand and began to panic, his hand, or what was suppose to be his hand was now disappearing into the air as blue square pixels like scattered sakura petals. He panicked and breathed as loudly as a man with a dozen arrows in his chest could as his legs and his other arms were "downloading", [color=aba000]"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"[/color]

He was suddenly cut off as he was taken from the battlefield, to be transported to some other place, to start the beginning of a grand journey beyond the path of honor.