The legend of Kendu and the spirit of Shytoshi

It started with a whisper. Carried on the wind, barely audible. But for those who caught it, it was a signal, a great sign of a new dawn and a new legend. The alpha was undeniable. A mysterious connection to an ancient legend called Shytoshi who had promised enlightenment at the conclusion of the journey to the faithful.

There was something breathing in the shadows. A new hero was to emerge, Kendu Miazaki, shrouded in a cloak to obscure his true identity.

The wind carried that legend, the Messiah, across the landscape and those who heard him speak carried his words in their hands like the infant saviour. This legend created by Miazaki had the power to wrap itself around the hearts of those who believed in the great prophecy.

These hearts became warriors. Dedicated to cementing the folklore and ushering it into being. They put their fucking helmets on and tightened the straps. They were ready to go into battle.

At the foot of the hill, amongst his small following of PFP's with helmets, Martini in hand, Miazaki stood looking down upon the small gathering of faithfuls - "I am one man. I am no one special. I am replaceable. If you unearthed me you would be disappointed as I am just a man" The words sounded eerily familiar. Right?

Who was this new messiah among us? Where had he been for 2.5 years? What was his purpose? Why did he return? And was that the sweet scent of Jager bombs on his breath?

At the foot of the great mountain, loyalists assembled, they saw the clouds shimmering at the peaks. "One step at a time. You Kendu it" said Miazaki. "The 1 billion market cap party will happen when we reach the summit". His voice shrouded in a thick Australian drawl which seemed at complete odds with this type of prophetic narrative.

As the army set forth on foot, their eyes on the peak of the mountain, their hearts cradling the great prophecy, they had one goal in mind. Moon this bitch. Hard.

The journey was arduous, each step a test of endurance and resolve. Through rugged terrain and treacherous paths, jeet dumps, accidental maestro accidents, wen boys and moon bois, Miazaki led his band of loyalists with unwavering determination. The wind carried their whispers, a symphony of hope and determination, as they pressed on toward the summit.

They battled fierce beasts that lurked in the shadows, scammers, dips, dumps, long consolidation periods, their roars echoing through the valleys. They weathered storms that threatened to tear them asunder, their spirits unbroken by the fury of nature.

Many shady figures emerged, posing as the faithful. Offering to lend their armies to the cause in return for a 1% supply of Kendu tokens.

But Miazaki stood strong and saw these people of perceived influence as they were, tricksters with synthetic armies without heart and conviction, who would run at the first sight of resistence. Some of the Kendu army questioned Miazaki, saw these people of influence as a viable and easy option to lessen their workload on the way to the summit.

Miazaki stood before his doubters. "Go back down the mountain to the Solana cesspool from wence you came. We do not need those with Jeet hearts and minds among us". Challenged by their lack of faith, these few jeets who lacked the Kendu Attitude fell to their knees, cucked each other, slipped and tumbled into the Solana Swamp or back at base camp, never to be seen again.

At a time of need, one great titan joined the journey, Mike O'Hearn, his ripped organic body shaming the fat ass keyboard warriors and giving them renewed faith. Those who saw this Demi God were secretly beguiled by him, even if they couldn't admit it to themselves.

Even a Crowned Prince joined the army, bowing before Miazaki and offering his unwavering loyalty.

The now large army came across a small whining gollum like creature, Larky Poos, who lived halfway up the mountain, scraping pots of gold from others who had tried to climb the great mountain before.

"I'm glad you ave joined us" bellowed Pete, a loyal Kendu warrior.

"Peeete! What the heck??" cried Larky Poos, as Pete placed an extremely large helmet on Larky Poos tiny little jeet skull.

Resistance was futile. The legend was already too great to deny. And soon little Larky Poos joined the crusade and for the first time, without a secret bag of gold for his efforts.

Throughout the journey, Miazaki remained steadfast, a beacon of courage and resilience for his followers. With each passing obstacle, his legend grew, his name whispered in awe and reverence by those who witnessed his deeds. And in turn his army grew, assembling to 5000 strong. But there was a storm or resistance brewing that made some falter.

Miazaki turned to his army. "One step at a time, one heart at a time. And so the prophecy shall be deemed infallible. For each heart beats as one. A sentient heart. An organic legend borne of your blood, sweat and tears. Beating so loud through the land, that is has awoken the ancient spirits".

One faltering loyalist cried out. "What's next???! We need...."

But before the words could fall from his mouth, Miazaki bellowed. "There is no one coming to save you Jeet!"

Miazaki looked at all his children...

"You are all jeets"

His eyes cast across them, landing in particular on Larky Poos.

"What the Heck??" blubbered Larky Poos.

"Everyone has their price, Larky Poos" Miazaki continued... "You will not all be here when we reach the peak. You are all replaceable. We shall see who carries the spirit of the five Inus once we reach the peak".

After some time, the arduous journey saw the weak crumble. Jeeting themselves back down to the valley of Dead spirits, Solana Valley. Others who could not take another step, joined the cuck circus on the mountainside. So much cucking that a case or two of Covid 19 broke out and threatened to strike Miazaki down. But those who cradled the prophecy and aspired to be part of the great legend, continued, one foot in front of the other towards their ultimate destiny, and carried Miazaki until his health returned.

At last, they reached the mid point of the great mountain, its peak obscured by clouds that danced like wraiths in the sky. With a final glance at his comrades, Miazaki raised his Martini high, a symbol of their unwavering determination.

"All of you still here are great Kendu Chads! And for that I will reward you with a equally great utility. You are about to have your little jeet minds blown" he declared, his voice ringing out with a newfound strength.

As they climbed higher and higher, the air grew thin and the winds howled with ferocious intensity. Yet still, they pressed on, fuelled by the belief that they were destined for greatness.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity, they reached the summit, the clouds parting to reveal a breathtaking vista that stretched out before them. In that moment, they knew that they had achieved the impossible, that they had fulfilled the Kendu prophecy that had guided them from the very beginning.

With tears of joy streaming down their faces, Miazaki and his loyalists stood atop the mountain, their hearts filled with a sense of accomplishment that transcended words. For they knew that they had proven themselves worthy of the legend that had brought them together, and that they would forever be remembered as the heroes who had dared to defy fate itself.

A bright light emerged from the skies and Shytoshi himself descended from the clouds.

"Welcome to the promise land, Kendu Chads. I have been waiting for you"