The Demon Slayer Corps Initiative

Sneak Peek: "???"

The strike of the Biwa signified their arrival, the ominous note echoing throughout the halls of the complex castle.

The Infinity Fortress- a private pocket dimension. It wasn't a complex piece of magic, rather a small, twisted paradise that complied rather aggressively with Einstein's physics theorems. A space of solitude to inhabit whenever the troubles of the world grew too much for the outcasts to bear.

It gave off a small, peculiar energy signature, the likes of which puzzled most intelligence agencies responsible for satellite surveillance- yet the structure wasn't visible on even the highest tech satellites.

The interior consisted of winding staircases and pristine wooden pathways seemingly leading to everywhere and nowhere at the same time, as well as intricately adorned halls and lamps, the place adequately decorated and lit. If one's navigation skills were still polished, the best they could do was to lead themselves to countless dead ends of the various rooms that were inside this peculiar place.

It would have been a rather comfortable location of solitude had it not been the infamous headquarters of humanity's most dangerous enemy so far.

Demons- members of a species that were once human, yet so brainwashed and devoted to their lord, black in both mind and soul, so corrupted and pitifully so far detached from society out of the animosity they harbor in their hearts to the ones they used to walk among.

An ironic tragedy in and of themselves- all they sought was to bring about the destruction of humankind with their abnormal abilities and unquenchable thirst for the flesh and blood of their former kin. All they were... simply a nation of man-eating creatures. Hungry and afraid.

Afraid of their master's wrath- afraid of failure- afraid of the heroes meant to slay them.

Too long has their quarrel remained in the dark, unknown to the rest of the world- and ever since the burning sting of their near defeat and the demon lord's escape thousands of years ago, the Demon Slayer Corps was forced to disband... at least, publicly. All of demon-kind knew that the old masters "retired" and remained in the shadows, secretly keeping the art alive.

Oh, how his blood thrummed with rage at the mere thought. 

The thought... of the pesky persistence of humans. The pathetic worms who always somehow managed to leave a bad taste lingering in his mouth.

They smelled of the earth and its bounties, of fresh vegetation and pure saccharinity- so different from the demon scent of twilight and blood. All comparisons never highlighted just how alien he felt compared to humans, the darkness encapsulating him even in the womb.

It was of no secret to the Demon King himself that the breathing techniques and forms were passed down through a select number of families that have cultivated these expert swordsmanship styles, elaborately masked as ceremonial, almost shamanic dances.

Japan was a devoutly religious country no matter how much it was modernized, after all.

However, Muzan Kibutsuji wasn't expecting the descendants of the dreaded Kamado bloodline to show the most promise and pose the most dangerous of threats among all of their offspring- in this era, no less. Nor was he expecting an influx of new information regarding the search for the Blue Spider Lily- ambiguous and explained in confusing wording, sure... historical information regarding past events, sure- but it still proved an instrumentally useful lead.

Tanjiro Kamado... a descendant of the bloodline bearing the familiar name- and the flame-shaped crest emblazoned so clearly on his forehead... a mark of skill, of inheritance, of destiny- the very birthmark that reminded him so vividly, so clearly... of that man.

He swallowed back the bile forming thick in his throat, clamping down violently on the fear rising and bubbling within his gut, threatening to explode. His face went straight as quick as the emotion slipped through momentarily.

And his younger sister... Nezuko Kamado, wasn't it?

His exhales grew shakier, dripping dangerously with ecstasy. The smile of a psychopath crossed his face, curling the corners of his mouth upwards ever-so-slightly.

A child prodigy, her intelligence ever-growing and mind as expansive as the likes of her predecessors- bearing the same blood as the chosen demon who conquered the sun as his more hopeful thinking had prophecised, yet was sadly turned back into a human. She carried herself with the grace, dignity and pride of some sort of aristocrat- a refined noblewoman, despite her family's precarious financial situation.

A dark, sinister chuckle pried its way out his throat.

Perhaps Muzan could twist her sharp wit and wistful eloquence to his own desires, make her mind one with his own. Perhaps he could mold her into the perfect super soldier, turn her into the ultimate pinnacle of perfection and urge her to accomplish what his other failed experiments could not- conquer even what he could not... so only demons can bask in the warmth of the sun's glow once more when the twilight they gazed upon was no more.

Perhaps, only then, shall the inevitable stop delaying itself after so long.