Marvel: I am the bastard son of stark (Remade)

Tomura stood alone in the clearing, his breath ragged, his hands trembling as his eyes lingered on the bodies of his former friends. The forest was eerily quiet now, as if the woods themselves mourned the carnage. Blood stained his clothes, his sword, and the earth beneath him.

He had won. But at what cost?

Before he could gather his thoughts, the stillness was broken by the sound of footsteps. From the shadows, a group of Hand Clan ninja emerged, their crimson robes blending with the blood-soaked forest. They surrounded him in silence, their faces emotionless. One of them stepped forward, his voice low and cold.

"You have done well," the ninja said. "You have proven yourself worthy."

Tomura didn't respond. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, his mind a whirlpool of exhaustion and guilt. The ninja moved closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Come. Your trial is over."

As the ninja guided him away, Tomura's mind began to drift. The weight of the battle, the weight of what he had done, pressed down on him like a mountain. And then, the memories came rushing back.

Flashback: The Final Battle

After Tomura and Kurogiri had killed everyone else in the forest, they had turned their focus on each other. There was no hesitation, no mercy. This was the way of the Hand Clan—to leave no survivors, not even allies. The trial demanded a single victor.

The two stood across from each other in the dying light of the forest, their eyes locked. Kurogiri, usually calm and composed, now had a fire in his gaze. His posture was relaxed, but his muscles were taut, ready to spring into action. Tomura, battered and bloodied, tightened his grip on his sword, his knuckles white.

"This is it, isn't it?" Kurogiri said, his voice steady despite the tension.

"It always was," Tomura replied, his tone devoid of emotion. He raised his sword, the blade glinting faintly in the dim light. "Let's end this."

The battle erupted in a blur of movement. Kurogiri attacked first, using Kenjutsu, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Tomura parried, their swords clashing with a metallic ring that echoed through the forest. Sparks flew as they exchanged blows, each strike more ferocious than the last.

Kurogiri's movements were fluid, his mastery of Ninjutsu and Arukijutsu evident in the way he seamlessly combined his blade work with bursts of smoke and shadow to disorient Tomura. But Tomura was relentless, his Taijutsu counterattacks striking with brutal efficiency. He ducked under Kurogiri's blade, landing a devastating elbow to his ribs, then spun around, slashing at his side.

They moved like phantoms through the forest, their battle a dance of death. Tomura's mastery of Ukemijutsu and Shisokujuuarukijutsu allowed him to evade Kurogiri's attacks with uncanny agility, rolling and twisting out of harm's way. But Kurogiri was just as skilled, his Shisokujuu Undou techniques making him a blur of motion, his strikes almost impossible to predict.

The fight grew more intense as they began to incorporate Bikenjutsu and Dakentaijutsu. Tomura delivered a flurry of strikes with his blade, each one aimed to kill, while Kurogiri countered with powerful kicks and palm strikes that sent shockwaves through the air. They were evenly matched, their skills honed to perfection.

Blood splattered the ground as the battle raged on, both fighters pushing themselves to their limits. Kurogiri unleashed a series of devastating Koppōjutsu techniques, targeting Tomura's joints with brutal efficiency. Tomura gritted his teeth, countering with Taihenjutsu manoeuvres that allowed him to twist out of Kurogiri's grasp and deliver a punishing knee to his stomach.

But even as their bodies screamed in protest, neither of them faltered. They fought with everything they had, their minds consumed by the primal need to survive.

And then, in a moment of desperation, Kurogiri overextended. Tomura saw his opening. His sword was broken, the blade reduced to a jagged shard, but it was enough. With a primal scream, he drove the shattered blade into Kurogiri's chest.

Kurogiri's eyes widened in shock as he stumbled back, blood spilling from his lips. He dropped to his knees, his strength failing him. Tomura stood over him, his chest heaving, his body trembling from exhaustion. For a moment, their eyes met, and in that fleeting instant, Tomura saw not an enemy, but a friend—a friend he had just killed.

Kurogiri's body slumped to the ground, lifeless. The forest fell silent once more.

The Present

Tomura's eyes fluttered open, the memory fading like a distant dream. He found himself lying in a dimly lit room, his body aching with every movement. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nostrils, and he realised he was in some kind of medical chamber.

"You're awake," a voice said.

Tomura turned his head to see a Hand Clan ninja standing at the foot of his bed. The man's expression was unreadable, his tone devoid of warmth. "You were in a coma for three days. Your body was pushed beyond its limits, but you survived. You should be proud."

Tomura didn't respond. The ninja nodded and turned to leave. "Rest. You've earned it."

As the door closed behind him, the room fell silent once more. Tomura stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He had survived. But why did it feel like he had lost?

His hand moved to his right arm, where a jagged wound throbbed beneath the bandages. Slowly, he unwrapped the cloth, revealing the gash. Black-purple mist began to seep from the wound, swirling like smoke. And then, from the darkness, a pair of yellow eyes emerged, glowing like twin suns.

Tomura's breath caught in his throat as the mist coalesced into a familiar shape. Kurogiri's voice echoed in his mind, calm and steady.

"Tomura... I'm still here."

The realisation hit him like a thunderbolt. Kurogiri wasn't gone. His essence, his power, had awakened within Tomura. The mist swirled around him, forming a portal that shimmered with an eerie light.

Tomura's lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. "You just couldn't let me have the last word, could you?"

The mist flickered, almost as if in response. Tomura clenched his fist, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like never before. He had won the trial, but the cost was greater than he could have ever imagined.

And now, with Kurogiri's power coursing through him, his journey was far from over.