[ Timeskip. Imran is now 20 years old ]

[ imran's point of view ]

The ruins of the abandoned town loomed eerily silent as I picked my way through the rubble-strewn alleys alone. My companions had scattered during our skirmish with a Japanese patrol, and now I was left stranded searching for any sign of them.

Rounding a corner, movement in my peripheral snapped my head up - too late. Before I could react, an iron grip closed around my throat and slammed me back against the crumbling wall with brutal force.

My feet scrabbled uselessly in empty air as the hulking assailant hoisted me clear off the ground with inhuman strength. I scrabbled at his vice-like fingers, gasping desperately for breath as dark spots swam before my eyes.

Through watery vision, I took in my attacker: a soldier by his build, but with telltale red slits glowing menacingly within brown irises. A yokdobut - one of the enhanced warriors the Japanese worshipped as monsters.

No human could match their terrible power. I shuddered weakly, resigning myself to my fate as consciousness wavered. But then an odd sensation stirred in the yokdobut's sneering face - uncertainty.

His rough grip loosened incrementally, allowing me a trickle of precious oxygen. Through it, I sensed his interest was not violence.  revulsion and fear roused fading adrenaline through my veins once more.

Seizing my chance, I summoned the last reserves of my mage's strength and slammed both feet into his chest with all my might. Caught off guard, the yokdobut toppled back, and I fell coughing to all fours.

Without looking back, I scrambled away on hands and knees until legs found their footing once more. Then I ran like the wind, putting as much distance as possible between myself and that twisted alley - and whatever depravities the demon soldier planned if he'd regained the upper hand.  

I scrambled through the crumbling streets, senses on high alert for any sign of pursuit. A glance back confirmed my fears - the soldier was lumbering after me with inexorable speed.

Panicked, I swerved down a narrow side alley, praying it might confuse or slow him. But rounding the bend, all I saw was a gnarled tree branch far too late.

My world exploded in sparks as my face smashed full-force into the wood with a sickening crunch. Stars swimming before my eyes, I crumpled to the dust, inkiness creeping into my vision.

Heavy footfalls thundered nearer, until dark shadows blocked out the sunlight above. Strong hands flipped me over, pinning my arms roughly as pain dissolved my senses further.

Through blurred eyes I glimpsed the soldier hovering over me, observing my dazed state intently. Something unreadable flickered in his gaze before resolve settled in.

To my shock, those iron grips slowly released me, touching my battered face gingerly instead. "I will not harm you," came the soldier's low, strangely soothing voice.

Rising unsteadily, he extended a hand down, callouses brushing my own smaller palm. Before I could register his intent, he pulled me upright with unexpected care - only to stagger in surprise at my lightweight frame. I faceplanted Into the ground

"Ah - I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." he said haltingly as I crumpled once more, expression strained with unease. Strange mercy glinted within hard eyes that should only know violence.

Dusting myself off shakily, I watched him warily through swelling pain, at a total loss to explain this unlikely change of heart from an enemy that should show none. What mysteries lurked within this solitary warrior of the rising sun?

[ Third person point of view ]

Imran stared at the soldier in bewildered silence. His mind swirled with confusion and suspicion. This man should be his enemy - all his life, the Japanese had brought only suffering.

And yet here this soldier was, showing strange acts of mercy instead of violence. It made no sense.

"If you have no further need of me, I'll take my leave," Imran said finally, turning to go with wary caution. A part of him itched to seize some weapon and attack, but he knew he'd never overpower the larger man.

"Wait." The soldier's voice halted him in his tracks. When Imran glanced back questioningly, the man asked, "What do you say we stick together?"

Imran blinked, certain he must have misheard. "Together? But we're enemies."

The soldier only met his gaze steadily, offering no reply. An uneasy quiet fell between them.

Then Imran felt a tickle of moisture on his cheek. Lifting fingers to his aching face, they came away red with blood. He must have hit that tree harder than realized.

The soldier noticed too and reached into his pack, withdrawing clean bandages. "Here, let me see to that wound."

Imran sat stunned as rough but careful hands wrapped the bandage snugly around his head. Things were becoming even more perplexing by the moment. Yet underneath the confusion, a small flame of curiosity had begun to kindle as well.

"There, all done. You should be more careful, little one," the soldier rumbled, packing up his supplies once more.

Imran's heart pulsed strangely in his chest. What mysteries surrounded this enigma of an enemy who acted without sense? Part of him was flustered.