Three hundred miles away in the heat of a barren desert where the harsh winds whipped up a pelleting rain of sand, two figures, wrapped and shrouded from head to toe, slowly traversed the ancient wasteland.

"Where is this thing supposed to be Raijin?"

"Not too far from here, but if the sands keep up like this, we might be slowed for another day."

Their voices were but whispers in the howling echoes of an angered storm and though each word was spoken at the top of their lung, each word was but a faint breath. Their legs plunged into knee high sand mounds, hands to their face blocking the assault while steadfastly pushing forward. One male, the other a young woman of her twenties, both indiscernible through the thick of this storm.

"Do you think we should continue? It seems to be getting worse."

"There's no where to stop, lest we want to be buried alive." She retorted, seemingly the more vigilant of the two. Her mind chartered back to their decision to venture unto these lands, the country of sand and the never ending desert which surrounded it. Their expedition had been fueled by a search for an ancient ruin said to house rare artifacts of strange, envied power. Power even gods sought after and yet none were to claim. Struggling against the biting winds, fighting through the relentless onslaught of sand. She reached into her pocket. fiddling with a round gem like stone. It had been the first, the fuel, the spark which had ignited that fire and that fire was the inferno that had brought them here. She rubbed her fingers over the small orb. A relic said to have come from the very ruin they were in search of though to this date, its coarse exterior hardened by what seemed like cemented brimstone dipped in liquid silver.

"Up there!" The male called to his companion. "I see something." She craned her neck fighting through the sand to see what he was pointing to. The steep hill of loose sand they'd embarked upon made traveling upwards a challenging feat, one which the male physique seemed to be more suited for. She'd fallen behind but maintained a visual on the silhouetted frame of her confidant. "Wait!" She called as he neared the top. "Hold up a- Ahhhh!"

The pain was sharp, furious, like that of a body trampled under the hooves of a thousand horses. She clutched her hands to her head as a high pitched whistling sound shot through her ear, racking her brain and disorienting every sense possible leaving nothing but pain, tremulous, torturous pain in its wake. She feel to her knees, hands claws through her wrapped gloves, gripping her head ware, forcing it fighting it, pleading it to stop. Her eyes clenched tightly shut, squeezing those lids close with a force stronger than she ever managed. Salted trails squeezed from the corner of her eyes as the wind continued in its onslaught.

"Mia!" He turned around, noticing the silhouette of the girl kneeling amidst the sand. "What the hell is wrong with her?" He'd read the top and only just turned to help her up. "Mia! Damn it." He turned around, away from the shadowed figure he had been moving to, the possible entrance to the ruin. "I'm comi -” His eyes suddenly shot open. A gush of blood spat from his throat and a moment of sharp pain turned into a horror of gut wrenching, heart twisting ache. His body froze as the throbbing; pulsing overcame him, a warmth of liquid soaking his torso downwards. Eyes bulging, hands trembling, body pillaged by a torturous pain, he reached to his stomach, his head tremulously bending down to view the sight. "N-" His words caught in his throat as his fingers touched the saw like edge of an large stone like blade. "Mi- Mi-” He tried to speak lifting his head and slowly turning to glance over his shoulder as the blood drooled down his lips and soaked his lower body.

"Raijin!" Her heart wrenched as a blast of sand rose over the mound and the sound of a man's scream echoed throughout the desert, Her body, kneeling, frozen, burdened by pain. The wave rose like that of a tsunami of the seas and with a silencing force, as if to drown her out completely. The wave of sand crashed unto the lone figure, her body drowning under and into the depths of nothing as the surface above settled and the desert grew calm.

Somewhere thousands of miles away, the daughter of an aged Kyashi Hinotama walked into her father's bedroom. He had been confined to bed rest ailed by a sickness he'd fallen into. A man now in his late sixties, he was well on the road to retirement, having long surrendered his sword and his teachings he'd unwillingly yet vigilantly passed unto his daughter. She looked down unto him with solemn eyes, her soft hands slowly caressing his forehead before bending to place a small kiss on top. "Get well dad." She smiled gazing upon his face until..." Huh?" She looked over to the end of the room where a small reddish glow emanated. She rose curiously walking towards the chest where her father kept all his old relics, swords, mementos he'd collected from his travels and seemingly something she'd not known about. Placid fingers ran over the edge of he chest before unlatching the lock with minimal effort. The light brightened a bit. "Hmmm..." She reached in, fiddling about, trying not to make a sound while searching for whatever it was that was emitting the strange light. Her ringers finally rolled over something small, round and for a moment she saw the light dim as though something had come over it. "This must be it.” She slowly wrapped her fingers around the small orb. "Hmmm...” Slap! Her hand stung from a sudden blow as her head turned around sharply. "F... Father." She spoke softly. "Haven't I told you before, not to enter this chest?"

"But I-" Kyashi watched her with a stern gaze, "Yes father."

"These things do not concern you." He slammed the chest shut, locking it with a key as Kyra looked on in awe. What was it that she didn't want him seeing?

Dream Sequence

The eye on the Soul Edge suddenly burst open as the blade flung it self to new altitudes rushing high into the air then flipping both opponents off clutched by Damon's awaiting fingers. They continued rising for a bit as each man assumed their stance. Then the drop began. They both decided to use their most powerful attack (Ougi) dropping thousands of feet towards the flaming pit below. Both swords emitted their auras. The Soul Blazer turning a sharp red while the Soul Edge turned a purple black. Massive swirls of energy surrounded each blade as their masters plunged to their unknown fate. Le Mak and Soul Edge's eyes were deadlocked in a furious battle. Each knew what the other was waiting for and this would be the only chance, their most glorious hour. Le Mak's grip on the Soul Blazer tightened as flares of red flame like energy pulsed around the blade. The wind whipping up as they both fell, hurtling towards the fiery depths below.

The pit came back into view, the flames shooting up around them as the magma blazed heatedly; welcoming them into is flaming embrace. Le Mak took one final look into the hateful eyes of Soul Edge then pushed himself backwards. Soul Edge did the same, glaring a final stare into the heart of the General and pushed himself backwards. Instantaneously, simultaneously, their feet connected with the side of the cliff. Both men drew back their swords and pushed forward, an explosive burst ripping through either side of the cliff shattering the rock face some more as they both shot towards each other. A brilliant surge of light split forth from their meeting, an unimaginably powerful shot of pure energy which thundered through the land. The flames erupted from with the magma pits bursting forward, shooting explosively into the air as enormous gusts ripped across the land. A massive flame engulfed the area, shrouding it in smoke, fire, dust and debris. As the smoke, cleared and the dust settled and the winds and the flames died down, the flutter of clothing was all that was heard as one body stood over the fallen corpse of the other. ; His hair long, flowing, white, shadowing his face. The sword on the ground cracked open, rippling from its core as the body beside it was engulfed in flames. The Earth seemed to mend itself as both instruments faded into the ground. Le Mak stood, his mane flowing in the wind standing over the dissipating remains of a most worthy opponent. He looked to the ground where a small fragment of the sword had been left. He reached for it, clenching the remnant of an unforgettable fight within his palm. He turned as the blade dissolved into the flames, knowing undoubtedly, that he hadn't seen the last, of Soul Edge...

End Dream Sequence

For reasons unknown Le Mak had awoken from midday slumber with an uneasy feeling riding the swirling waves at the pit of his stomach. He’d had that dream again, reliving his first meeting with the Demon sword and just like he had known then, he knew now that he’d meet Soul Edge once more maybe a lot sooner than he’d thought. His fingers fiddled around his clothing slipping under his coat to his bare chest where he felt the charred, jagged remnants of the sword he’d fought years ago. This souvenir he had taken from their meeting was the prize he claimed for defeating a worthy adversary but he knew all too well that their fight wasn’t over. The underside of his thumb slid back and forth across the jagged exterior as his pointer and middle finger held the shard fixed. Le Mak closed his eyes for a second as the sun peered past a thick of clouds looking down at the man seated amidst a meadow on the outskirts of the forest. The sea green mat littered in enchanting design with red and white rose petals scattered about the surface. With each whisk of the wind stirring then from their slumber, they danced playfully about a midday sky, rising in a captivating performance ensnaring the minds of those not too distraught to appreciate their beauty though as if by jealous will, if ignored they seemed to linger about the air casting their spellbinding fragrance upon the poor fool who sought not to feast on the wonders of their art until his head rose from the ground to sky and his eyes were torn away from that which they envied, left solely to rest upon their graceful fall and then just as they were to settle again along the seas, a gentle wave would sweep across the land lifting them once more into dance. Le Mak observed with appreciative countenance, his smile etching slowly across his face. He sighed as the theatrical performance came to an end and the petals settled once more; his mind returning again to the haunting shard held deftly by pliant fingers. Another concerto of dance had taken center stage and as before, Le Mak played sole audience reclining in the shaded comfort of the nearby forestry and resting up against the bark of one of the trees. His eyes shone wildly with the reflection of flowered passion as he delved into nature’s play remaining as he was, fused until something made him aware of another presence. It was chilling, a ripple though his spine and a twinge of pain through his fingers as the shard he had saved from that day years ago suddenly seemed to flame momentarily. His eyes shot open as he tried to sense the reason for his sudden alarm. Dead ahead, through the swirling red an white mixed lasciviously amongst the sea green waves cast in celestial bounty by an outpouring of golden rays against an oceanic blue, accentuated by velvet puffs of white, was a body, a figure, standing, silent but totally aware. Le Mak rose, his eyes still locked with that of one who seemed to care not for his presence but still he felt drawn. His first steps were paced, unhurried as if he sought not to disturb the harmony of nature’s dexterous festival then without resignation, he stopped. The petals swirled playfully around him, darting across his eyes, nipping at the nape of his neck, caressing the length of his arm before tracing a lingering path across his cheek bone and rising hypnotically to the sky followed by Le Mak’s gaze. His eyes shifted back to his newfound company finding none. His ghostly apparition has sheathed itself once more, hiding in wait until revelation’s new coming. One hand rested on the hilt of his Soul Blazer, Le Mak turned away from the sight. The haunt had only begun.