“We live again”, Akio whispered to himself. The feeling of rain on his face was impossible to describe. The raindrops made strange sounds as they clashed against the exposed bone. What little cartilage and meat remained, was now alive with dark powers.
“WE LIVE AGAIN!” he said to his men as they chanted and screamed under the heavy rain.
Yamada Akio, who, in life, had once led the Hōrō-sha rōnin, looked around. His army—Thousands of the most fearsome warriors Japan had ever seen—looked back at him with their empty eyes. The rage in their bones was threatening to break free, just as his own anger boiled underneath what little skin remained.
The flesh and blood that had once given them life was gone, and mostly replaced by clean white bone. Sections of their bodies had not rotten away entirely, and remained attached to the bone in different stages of decomposition. Their decaying faces were grim and stoic, inspiring sheer terror to anyone that crossed their paths.
“Sir. What is your command? The men are hungry for revenge” said Itsuki, whom in life had been Akio’s second in command.
“We march home” Akio responded. His second shared his command with the men and they started walking, following their leader through the mud and the trees.
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