The trouble with revenge is that is never truly accomplishes anything. It is a dish best served cold and continuously and it is dish that will never satisfy or satiate. The act of seeking it occupies the mind between the drawing of blades and the emotion of it pushes you to slay all who stand before you when on the path. Tatsu Yamashiro had been on this path for longer The she cared to remember. Each footfall past the one that had brought her through the front door of her burning home in the wilds of Alaska and over the rapidly cooling corpse of her husband had been taken in an effort to further her finding his killer. Such as the one she takes now to bring her to the edge of a Gotham rooftop. Looking down she slowly moves her eyes searching for any detail that will ease her assault upon the Yakuza establishment below. The last had been a gambling den posing as a mere laundry mat and it had provided her with no answers. So she had located another target and again the dance would begin and the Soultaker would be fed, already the blade hummed with anticipation or perhaps memory as the voice of Maseo as distinct as the day he still lived pulled her mind back.

Takeo Yamashiro had been her first love and her first husband but he had not been her last love. He had been so confident and handsome then, only his chosen profession gave her slight pause. A lieutenant among the Yakuza the two had met shortly after her father forever changed the direction of her life. Tatsu had only ever wished to compete as a martial artist and to perhaps marry the handsome man who visited her home before every tournament.

His visits had always been cordial, at least until the night before the last when their true nature became clear. Takeo served the Yakuza and had been the man to collect losses or to distribute winnings and Her father had lost, and significantly. When asked just what he had placed such a large wager on he pointed to Tatsu herself. He had been betting on her competitions and had grown to confident in her skills.

She had lost that day and her father had placed all he had and some he didn’t on the outcome. What happened next Tatsu would not be given the opportunity to Reminisce upon this dark and stormy night in Gotham. A feint sound almost indistinguishable from a light breeze caught her ear and she turned bringing her blade up to strike against the swiftly sung blade of a man in garb she did not recognize.

His origin might be vague his intent was not.

“You are not Sword Clan…or Yakuza…”

Her ears heard the sound again as he was not along, others moved to surround her. Katana considered fleeing, Soul Taker would not hear of it. The blade demanded it be given what it required, a worthy soul. The man did not answer her but rather he moved low and brought the blade around to strike her along the neck.

Unfortunately for her opponent Katana was faster and possessed of a mind for swordplay that made her seem psychic to some. Soul Taker caught the sword and knocked it away as her hand thrust forward to send her palm hard into his throat. Staggered undeterred he moved in position again as his friends continued to circle.

“My business here is not with you…leave me in peace or leave in them.”

No sooner had the words left her gritted teeth then the sky flashed with a dramatically timed lighting strike in the distance. With its light came revelation and a small prayer for salvation as the truth had been laid bare. Katana had believed herself to face three opponents, in truth their number could best be described as legion.

it occurred to her now that perhaps she had only detected them because they had wished it to be so. She had been effectively surrounded and had only sensed it at the last second.

it mattered little to katana how many gathered, she had a path and none would push her from it. So she would plant her feet and grip her blade and she would become the goddess of the sword incarnate if she must…she would not be moved.

But just as the fight was set to begin an explosion rocked a building not far from Katana. Whatever had happened the event shook the rooftop she stood on and loosened the brick her foot rested on at the edge of the roof.

Breaking her stance the ninja she had staggered quickly brought up his leg to collide his foot with her chin. Off her feet and desperately trying not to fall to the street below he managed to connect and cause just that.

Katana fell back and into the open air toward the alley below, her path now only seemed destined to involve pavement and a chalk outline.

Despite this she spares a glance back to the gathering army, they were fleeing. The man who had faced her seemed to be the leader and he gathered his men and hey fled. Toward the explosion.

Should she survive this she would have to discern why.