That night, a man entered the Seito Plaza Hotel, a hotel amongst the high-rise buildings by the west exit of Shinjuku station, known for having large numbers of foreign guests. Short, bald, with a red face, he seemed out of place. But his body gave off a glittering energy, and the other guests all turned toward him as if on cue as he passed. Jogging past the lobby, the man headed to the elevator.
His name was Shimazaki Ryunosuke. He was an infamous tycoon, known for his shrewd buying and selling of conglomerates using foreign capital. In a single day, the more than three hundred companies under his control were said to make over 50 billion yen. Shimazaki was also known to have deep connections with the current ruling political party. Who could he be visiting here, alone and without his secretary? Spat out by the elevator as it stopped at the fifteenth floor, Shimazaki stopped in front of the door to froom 1504.
"Loki is a demon. A demon can't die!" Shimazaki heard the hysterical cries of a woman, and he slowed a bit. Doubtfully pulling a memo out of his pocket and checking to make sure he was at the right room, Shimazaki reluctantly knocked on the door.
Shimazaki had known Isma from earlier and could recognize him on sight, and with barely a greeting, as soon as he had entered the room was asking if it was true or not that a demon really had been summoned. With a slightly offended look on his face, Isma went over the details of what he knew and had learned from Ohara.
"So then, instead of Loki, a demon named Set has now been summoned?" Shimazaki's question was hurried and impatient.
"According to Miss Ohara, it would appear so..." Isma looked back as he spoke. Ohara was trying to open the door and leave.
"Where are you going?" Isma's gaze stopped Ohara in her tracks.
"That's none of your business now, is it?" Ohara's tone was confrontational.
"I won't have you running out on your own and ruining things. Stay right here." His stare affixed on Ohara, Isma moved toward her a step at a time.
"I don't take orders from you!" As Ohara's eyes opened wide as she spoke, Isma's large, bony hands grabbed her by the back of the neck.
"Just what do you think you can do on your own? True, we don't know for sure that Loki is dead. But even if I let you continue to play with the summoning program, with your limited computer knowledge, you'd only end up getting killed by Set!" As he admonished her, Isma threw Ohara to the floor like so much useless rubbish.
Crawling on the carpet, Ohara glared up at Isma with eyes full of humiliation and bewilderment, the white nape of her neck marred with reddish-black marks from his fingers. Like nothing had happened, Isma turned and continued to speak to Shimazaki.
"Mr. Shimazaki, I would like you to hurry and prepare a computer for me."
"Of course, Saint. I'll ready any machine you want, be it an IBM supercomputer or a Cray 1. In exchange, if you could let me use the power of the demon as well..." Rubbing his hands together, Shimazaki looked up at Isma.
As Isma responded with a sarcastic smile, his eyes drifted to Ohara, who was crawling towards the door in an attempt to escape.
"Don't you get it yet!?" As he yelled, Isma chanted the spell "Yog-sothoth Ya Rubikay Hara" in a low voice.
That instant, Ohara let out a cry like an animal and rolled around the floor, her hands frantically clutching at her throat. Her shining, manicured nails sunk into the flesh of her neck, and blood flowed from the wounds.
"Ohara, the mark on your neck will not vanish easily. As I continue to cast my spells, you will feel tightening pain as if you were being hung from the gallows."
Isma's harsh, merciless words sounded like a far off-echo to Ohara as she writhed on the floor in agony.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Part 1: Chapter 2
Tokyo, Kuniritsu.
Now summer vacation, the plaza of Jusho High was empty. The blazing sun, now slightly less fierce, quietly illuminated the building. As if trying to avoid its rays, housewives and students walking by the rows of gingko trees along University Avenue cast curious glances in its direction.
A week ago, the school's CAI room had been destroyed, and the entire class that had been in a lesson there had vanished.
"The entire class colluded together to destroy the facility, and then ran off somewhere." That was the explanation their instructor, Ohara, had given. But nobody could have even imagined the truth behind the incident, which was like a symbol of the growing violence that had been going on inside the school.
One of the seniors at the school, Nakajima Akemi, with his handsome feminine looks, had had a tendency to be an object of jealousy amongst the other male students. Blessed with genius computing ability, Nakajima had discovered the similarities between computer theory and magical theory, and succeeded in summoning the digital data of the demon Loki with his computer. Using Loki's power, Nakajima had attempted to exact revenge on other students who had wronged him. Living inside the CAI room's computer as a digital construct, Loki had granted Nakajima's wish by taking control of the students attending lecture there.
Meanwhile, in secret, Loki had achieved a physical body on his own, and Nakajima started becoming a threat to him. The beautiful teacher Ohara, who had been given to Loki as an offering, was enthralled by the demon's charm, and learned to operate the demon summoning program in Nakajima's stead. Soon Loki had slipped from Nakajima's control, and became a maneating beast that started brutal killing sprees. Feeling a deep responsibility for the results caused by his curiosity and desire for vengeance, Nakajima summoned the demon beast Kerberos and challenged Loki. He was defeated, but an unlikely ally had appeared in the battle.
It was the Japanese goddess Izanami, who had possessed Shirasagi Yumiko, a transfer student with a crush on Nakajima. In the indescribably harsh battle, the CAI room had been reduced to ruins. And Izanami teleported the wounded Nakajima and Yumiko to Asuka, the place of her burial. Loki too headed to Asuka in hot pursuit.
Of course, nobody could possibly have known the true circumstances of the incident, and only the surface end results made it to the mass media in a typical sensationalist manner.
"Elite Class Destroys Classroom and Disappears!" That, and similar titles, were what were making the headlines of the weekly papers.
Until the police had concluded their investigation, the CAI room in question was off limits. Though it had faintened considerably, a stench that was difficult to withstand still wafted through the rubble-strewn room . The machine room, miraculously undamaged, separated from the rest of the classroom by cracked plate glass, had a suspicious figure lurking in it. Deep red fingernails massaged the terminal's keyboard. The LED light of the disk drive flashed busily. It appeared to be copying either a long program or huge amount of data. As the copying finished, filling ten large 8-inch floppy disks, the woman breathed a sigh of relief.
"Professor Ohara, are you done yet?" Reluctantly opening the door, the janitor looked around the area before sticking his head into the machine room.
"If they find out I let you in here I could get in big trouble."
"I'm really sorry. I'll be done in just a minute." As the woman spoke in a nasal tone, the janitor grudgingly pulled his head back. Softly clicking her tongue, she returned to her typing. A message displayed on the screen.
> PROGRAM "DEMON" DELETE YES OR NO?
The computer was asking whether or not she wanted to delete one of its programs.
> YES
Slowly entering the command, the woman pressed the Return key. As she did, the magnetic tapes of the host computer emotionlessly spun and clattered, before soon grinding to a halt. That instant, the demon summoning program that Nakajima Akemi had written vanished without a trace from the Jusho High computer system.
Resting his elbows on the concrete fence surrounding the school building, Isma Feed stood like a shadow. He was dressed like he was in Massachusetts, draped in a black cloak over a yellowing flaxen robe, and wearing black leather boots. Despite his unusual appearance, the people passing by him on the street appeared to be paying him no heed at all. It was not as if they were avoiding him deliberately; rather, it was as if they did not even realize that he was standing there. Isma had surrounded himself in a magical field. The ability to hide one's presence with a magical field was thought to be the speciality of the Japanese Onmyojis, but its roots were actually far older, and had been mastered by ancient Mayan magicians far earlier. For Isma, who was a descendant of those same magicians, hiding his presence was an easy task. But his eyes, turned to the school building, were full of discontent.
I can't sense anything. There seems to be no doubt that the boy named Nakajima summoned a demon, but I can't feel any demonic presence...
Isma had noticed the similarities between computer theory and magical theory years ago. He had thought the reason that it was so difficult to summon demons into the human world was that it was easy for the weather and the earth's magnetic field to interfere in the environment needed to successfully perform a summoning. Therefore, he theorized that if he was able to create a strong magnetic field inside a computer, it would be possible to eliminate said outside influences and thus was attempting to do so himself. However, upon learning from the ISG databanks that a young man in Japan already succeeded in doing so, he immediately flew to Tokyo.
Looks like I'm just going to have to take the time to search out Nakajima Akemi myself.
Disappointed, Isma slowly turned around and started to walk away, when he heard a pleading voice say "Professor, please keep all this a secret..." Turning around, he saw an ordinary-looking middle-aged man calling to a woman carrying a large bag. The woman waved her hand irritatedly and started walking toward Isma.
She was a very alluring woman. Her beautiful symmetrical body--one that could easily be that of a model--emitted feminine charm. Her hot yet somehow dark gaze could not help but kindle desire in any man that saw her. But that was not all; Isma sensed something from Ohara that set off his instincts as a magician. A smile formed on Isma's lips as his eyes traveled up and down her body.
A demon really DID come to the Assiah world. The demonic life within that woman's body is the proof.
Isma blinked twice, three times rythmically. Perhaps it was a gesture to drop the magical field surrounding him, but Ohara stopped in her tracks as if struck by lightning.
Ohara's love for Loki was special. She had been given as an offering to the demon Loki by Nakajima Akemi in June. At the time, the digital Loki had made love to her in a virtual world. The voluptuous Ohara was no stranger to sex, but the intense, nearly-fatal ecstacy she felt from sleeping with a demon had brought out the innate feminine devilishness within her to its umost extremes. Soon Loki materialized, gaining the ability to take form in the human world. Ohara belonged to him heart and soul, and she became impregnated with his child. But after chasing Nakajima to Asuka to kill him, Loki had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth. Believing that it would be impossible for a demon as powerful as Loki to be defeated by one as weak as Nakajima, Ohara had tried to use the demon summoning program over and over again, but she had gotten no response from Loki. Instead, the only one that appeared was a different demon calling himself Set.
Furthermore, the critical CAI room had become off-limits after the incident there, so she couldn't use the computers there freely any longer. Finally Ohara had copied the demon summoning program, but she had no idea how and where she could run it to find Loki, and while mulling over what to do next, she noticed Isma and stopped in her tracks.
"Yod, Heh, Vav, Heh." The words of the spell that Loki had cast left Isma's lips.
"Who are you...?"
Ohara was entranced by the mysterious blue, shining eyes of this oddly-dressed foreigner. Isma closed those eyes halfway, whispered "Let's go" and silently started to walk. As if being pulled by an invisible line, Ohara followed after him.
Now summer vacation, the plaza of Jusho High was empty. The blazing sun, now slightly less fierce, quietly illuminated the building. As if trying to avoid its rays, housewives and students walking by the rows of gingko trees along University Avenue cast curious glances in its direction.
A week ago, the school's CAI room had been destroyed, and the entire class that had been in a lesson there had vanished.
"The entire class colluded together to destroy the facility, and then ran off somewhere." That was the explanation their instructor, Ohara, had given. But nobody could have even imagined the truth behind the incident, which was like a symbol of the growing violence that had been going on inside the school.
One of the seniors at the school, Nakajima Akemi, with his handsome feminine looks, had had a tendency to be an object of jealousy amongst the other male students. Blessed with genius computing ability, Nakajima had discovered the similarities between computer theory and magical theory, and succeeded in summoning the digital data of the demon Loki with his computer. Using Loki's power, Nakajima had attempted to exact revenge on other students who had wronged him. Living inside the CAI room's computer as a digital construct, Loki had granted Nakajima's wish by taking control of the students attending lecture there.
Meanwhile, in secret, Loki had achieved a physical body on his own, and Nakajima started becoming a threat to him. The beautiful teacher Ohara, who had been given to Loki as an offering, was enthralled by the demon's charm, and learned to operate the demon summoning program in Nakajima's stead. Soon Loki had slipped from Nakajima's control, and became a maneating beast that started brutal killing sprees. Feeling a deep responsibility for the results caused by his curiosity and desire for vengeance, Nakajima summoned the demon beast Kerberos and challenged Loki. He was defeated, but an unlikely ally had appeared in the battle.
It was the Japanese goddess Izanami, who had possessed Shirasagi Yumiko, a transfer student with a crush on Nakajima. In the indescribably harsh battle, the CAI room had been reduced to ruins. And Izanami teleported the wounded Nakajima and Yumiko to Asuka, the place of her burial. Loki too headed to Asuka in hot pursuit.
Of course, nobody could possibly have known the true circumstances of the incident, and only the surface end results made it to the mass media in a typical sensationalist manner.
"Elite Class Destroys Classroom and Disappears!" That, and similar titles, were what were making the headlines of the weekly papers.
Until the police had concluded their investigation, the CAI room in question was off limits. Though it had faintened considerably, a stench that was difficult to withstand still wafted through the rubble-strewn room . The machine room, miraculously undamaged, separated from the rest of the classroom by cracked plate glass, had a suspicious figure lurking in it. Deep red fingernails massaged the terminal's keyboard. The LED light of the disk drive flashed busily. It appeared to be copying either a long program or huge amount of data. As the copying finished, filling ten large 8-inch floppy disks, the woman breathed a sigh of relief.
"Professor Ohara, are you done yet?" Reluctantly opening the door, the janitor looked around the area before sticking his head into the machine room.
"If they find out I let you in here I could get in big trouble."
"I'm really sorry. I'll be done in just a minute." As the woman spoke in a nasal tone, the janitor grudgingly pulled his head back. Softly clicking her tongue, she returned to her typing. A message displayed on the screen.
> PROGRAM "DEMON" DELETE YES OR NO?
The computer was asking whether or not she wanted to delete one of its programs.
> YES
Slowly entering the command, the woman pressed the Return key. As she did, the magnetic tapes of the host computer emotionlessly spun and clattered, before soon grinding to a halt. That instant, the demon summoning program that Nakajima Akemi had written vanished without a trace from the Jusho High computer system.
Resting his elbows on the concrete fence surrounding the school building, Isma Feed stood like a shadow. He was dressed like he was in Massachusetts, draped in a black cloak over a yellowing flaxen robe, and wearing black leather boots. Despite his unusual appearance, the people passing by him on the street appeared to be paying him no heed at all. It was not as if they were avoiding him deliberately; rather, it was as if they did not even realize that he was standing there. Isma had surrounded himself in a magical field. The ability to hide one's presence with a magical field was thought to be the speciality of the Japanese Onmyojis, but its roots were actually far older, and had been mastered by ancient Mayan magicians far earlier. For Isma, who was a descendant of those same magicians, hiding his presence was an easy task. But his eyes, turned to the school building, were full of discontent.
I can't sense anything. There seems to be no doubt that the boy named Nakajima summoned a demon, but I can't feel any demonic presence...
Isma had noticed the similarities between computer theory and magical theory years ago. He had thought the reason that it was so difficult to summon demons into the human world was that it was easy for the weather and the earth's magnetic field to interfere in the environment needed to successfully perform a summoning. Therefore, he theorized that if he was able to create a strong magnetic field inside a computer, it would be possible to eliminate said outside influences and thus was attempting to do so himself. However, upon learning from the ISG databanks that a young man in Japan already succeeded in doing so, he immediately flew to Tokyo.
Looks like I'm just going to have to take the time to search out Nakajima Akemi myself.
Disappointed, Isma slowly turned around and started to walk away, when he heard a pleading voice say "Professor, please keep all this a secret..." Turning around, he saw an ordinary-looking middle-aged man calling to a woman carrying a large bag. The woman waved her hand irritatedly and started walking toward Isma.
She was a very alluring woman. Her beautiful symmetrical body--one that could easily be that of a model--emitted feminine charm. Her hot yet somehow dark gaze could not help but kindle desire in any man that saw her. But that was not all; Isma sensed something from Ohara that set off his instincts as a magician. A smile formed on Isma's lips as his eyes traveled up and down her body.
A demon really DID come to the Assiah world. The demonic life within that woman's body is the proof.
Isma blinked twice, three times rythmically. Perhaps it was a gesture to drop the magical field surrounding him, but Ohara stopped in her tracks as if struck by lightning.
Ohara's love for Loki was special. She had been given as an offering to the demon Loki by Nakajima Akemi in June. At the time, the digital Loki had made love to her in a virtual world. The voluptuous Ohara was no stranger to sex, but the intense, nearly-fatal ecstacy she felt from sleeping with a demon had brought out the innate feminine devilishness within her to its umost extremes. Soon Loki materialized, gaining the ability to take form in the human world. Ohara belonged to him heart and soul, and she became impregnated with his child. But after chasing Nakajima to Asuka to kill him, Loki had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth. Believing that it would be impossible for a demon as powerful as Loki to be defeated by one as weak as Nakajima, Ohara had tried to use the demon summoning program over and over again, but she had gotten no response from Loki. Instead, the only one that appeared was a different demon calling himself Set.
Furthermore, the critical CAI room had become off-limits after the incident there, so she couldn't use the computers there freely any longer. Finally Ohara had copied the demon summoning program, but she had no idea how and where she could run it to find Loki, and while mulling over what to do next, she noticed Isma and stopped in her tracks.
"Yod, Heh, Vav, Heh." The words of the spell that Loki had cast left Isma's lips.
"Who are you...?"
Ohara was entranced by the mysterious blue, shining eyes of this oddly-dressed foreigner. Isma closed those eyes halfway, whispered "Let's go" and silently started to walk. As if being pulled by an invisible line, Ohara followed after him.
Part 1: Chapter 1
In Massachusetts, there is an old port town called Salem. In the nineteenth century, it flourished as a fishing harbor, but its fate fluctuated along with the American fishing industry, and currently less than a tenth of the population at the apex of its prosperity lived there, now eking out a meager existence in the food processing industry. In the center of the town, the now boat-free canal, filled with muddy water, flows out into the bay. Along this canal, the rays of the summer sun reflected off of the white paint peeling off the boards of old houses, relics of the town in more prosperous times.
On one block of these houses stood a cheap brick hotel, built before the First World War, yet still standing despite not being renovated even once. On the second floor, there was a room. This room was devoid of furniture other than a bed and telephone, and the only sound to be heard inside was that of the rattling of an ancient GE air conditioner's compressor. The man in this room ignored it, though, and focused on working with the handheld computer in front of him. He was probably close to fifty years old, wore a black cloak over a yellowed old flaxen robe, and worn leather boots on his feet. His shoulder-length silver hair fit the medieval sorcerer's garb he wore perfectly.
The man's name was Isma Feed. He was the younger brother of Charles Feed, the famous engineer and magical researcher of MIT. In contrast to his elder brother, who founded his organization, ISG, so that alchemy and magic could further science and society, Isma's purpose in life was to master dark sorcery and the black arts for nefarious ends. People that knew Isma were deathly afraid of him. To be sure, as he was hunched over the display, his eyes darting across the screen like a hawk, Isma certainly resembled a demon in demeanor.
Isma's handheld computer was connected to the telephone jack, and was communicating with ISG's (International Satanist Garden) AI, Craft, online. Scrutinizing the latest data that Craft was giving him, Isma narrowed his eyes in thought, and his long, bony fingers tapped the keyboard.
> IS THAT TRUE?
> MAYBE.
The artificial intelligence responded immediately.
"....."
With a deep breath, Isma cut the connection to the AI.
"It's tough to believe at face value, but there doesn't seem to be any doubt that a young boy in Asia really did succeed in summoning a demon with a computer." As he murmered, somebody knocked on the door.
"Come in." Turning off his handheld computer, Isma turned his head toward the door, still leaning against the back of his chair. As he did, the elderly innkeeper opened the door with an awkward bitter smile on his face.
"Please excuse me. There is someone here who insists on seeing you..."
Not letting the old man finish, a huge sharp-eyed man entered the room, motioning the old man to leave with the barrel of his drawn handgun.
"The great magician Isma Feed. I've finally found you." The man's voce was laden with barely concealed hatred.
"You're...James, from the FBI, are you not? I applaud your efforts in finding my whereabouts, but this is certainly a rude manner in which to greet me. I presume you intend to arrest me--on what charges, may I ask?" Isma slowly stood up, a sarcastic smile on his face.
"As you may know, we're not famous for our subtlety down at the FBI. And if I were to cite each and every one of your crimes, it would take all day." Despite the strength of his words, the man's voice trembled ever so slightly, as if being intimidated by Isma's stare.
"Come quietly. I don't want to have to drag your corpse around." Bluffing, the man cocked his postol and pointed the barrel at Isma's chest.
"Well, dealing with your corpse wouldn't bother me one bit..." Isma's pale blue eyes glittered with cold light as he stared at the man.
Despite his seemingly overwhelming advantage in the situation, the man could not speak, and simply met Isma's gaze. Silence filled the room, and a large bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Presently Isma started walking toward the man, his robe dragging on the floor behind him as if wiping it clean.
"Stop! Don't come one step closer!" Crying out in a dry voice, the man readied his handgun and took a step backwards.
"James, if you wanted to take me on, you should have called for backup first. Of course, one person or three people, the result would still be the same."
Isma's cold eyes glimmered. As they did, the barrel of the gun slowly started to move on its own, sweeping across the filthy wall as if to wipe it clean.
The man grabbed his right hand with his left, trying his utmost to stop it. But as if being twisted by a powerful, invisible hand, his right hand slowly but surely pointed the gun at his face.
"Stop, please stop. Argh..." The sour, chilly taste of the barrel of the gun filled his mouth, forcing his saliva and cries down his throat. As both his hands fought each other for control of the gun, the man bent backward and looked up at the ceiling.
BANG!
The low sound of the gunshot shook the room, and the man fell backward, spilling his blood and brains on the floor through the hole in the back of his head.
"Joseph, as usual, please clean up afterwards." Taking a glance at the mangled body, Isma spoke to the elderly innkeeper cowering in the corner.
"I am going to Japan. This time, it may end up being a long trip." Crushing globs of brain and blood under his leather boots, Isma disappeared through the door, leaving reddish-black footprints behind him.
On one block of these houses stood a cheap brick hotel, built before the First World War, yet still standing despite not being renovated even once. On the second floor, there was a room. This room was devoid of furniture other than a bed and telephone, and the only sound to be heard inside was that of the rattling of an ancient GE air conditioner's compressor. The man in this room ignored it, though, and focused on working with the handheld computer in front of him. He was probably close to fifty years old, wore a black cloak over a yellowed old flaxen robe, and worn leather boots on his feet. His shoulder-length silver hair fit the medieval sorcerer's garb he wore perfectly.
The man's name was Isma Feed. He was the younger brother of Charles Feed, the famous engineer and magical researcher of MIT. In contrast to his elder brother, who founded his organization, ISG, so that alchemy and magic could further science and society, Isma's purpose in life was to master dark sorcery and the black arts for nefarious ends. People that knew Isma were deathly afraid of him. To be sure, as he was hunched over the display, his eyes darting across the screen like a hawk, Isma certainly resembled a demon in demeanor.
Isma's handheld computer was connected to the telephone jack, and was communicating with ISG's (International Satanist Garden) AI, Craft, online. Scrutinizing the latest data that Craft was giving him, Isma narrowed his eyes in thought, and his long, bony fingers tapped the keyboard.
> IS THAT TRUE?
> MAYBE.
The artificial intelligence responded immediately.
"....."
With a deep breath, Isma cut the connection to the AI.
"It's tough to believe at face value, but there doesn't seem to be any doubt that a young boy in Asia really did succeed in summoning a demon with a computer." As he murmered, somebody knocked on the door.
"Come in." Turning off his handheld computer, Isma turned his head toward the door, still leaning against the back of his chair. As he did, the elderly innkeeper opened the door with an awkward bitter smile on his face.
"Please excuse me. There is someone here who insists on seeing you..."
Not letting the old man finish, a huge sharp-eyed man entered the room, motioning the old man to leave with the barrel of his drawn handgun.
"The great magician Isma Feed. I've finally found you." The man's voce was laden with barely concealed hatred.
"You're...James, from the FBI, are you not? I applaud your efforts in finding my whereabouts, but this is certainly a rude manner in which to greet me. I presume you intend to arrest me--on what charges, may I ask?" Isma slowly stood up, a sarcastic smile on his face.
"As you may know, we're not famous for our subtlety down at the FBI. And if I were to cite each and every one of your crimes, it would take all day." Despite the strength of his words, the man's voice trembled ever so slightly, as if being intimidated by Isma's stare.
"Come quietly. I don't want to have to drag your corpse around." Bluffing, the man cocked his postol and pointed the barrel at Isma's chest.
"Well, dealing with your corpse wouldn't bother me one bit..." Isma's pale blue eyes glittered with cold light as he stared at the man.
Despite his seemingly overwhelming advantage in the situation, the man could not speak, and simply met Isma's gaze. Silence filled the room, and a large bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Presently Isma started walking toward the man, his robe dragging on the floor behind him as if wiping it clean.
"Stop! Don't come one step closer!" Crying out in a dry voice, the man readied his handgun and took a step backwards.
"James, if you wanted to take me on, you should have called for backup first. Of course, one person or three people, the result would still be the same."
Isma's cold eyes glimmered. As they did, the barrel of the gun slowly started to move on its own, sweeping across the filthy wall as if to wipe it clean.
The man grabbed his right hand with his left, trying his utmost to stop it. But as if being twisted by a powerful, invisible hand, his right hand slowly but surely pointed the gun at his face.
"Stop, please stop. Argh..." The sour, chilly taste of the barrel of the gun filled his mouth, forcing his saliva and cries down his throat. As both his hands fought each other for control of the gun, the man bent backward and looked up at the ceiling.
BANG!
The low sound of the gunshot shook the room, and the man fell backward, spilling his blood and brains on the floor through the hole in the back of his head.
"Joseph, as usual, please clean up afterwards." Taking a glance at the mangled body, Isma spoke to the elderly innkeeper cowering in the corner.
"I am going to Japan. This time, it may end up being a long trip." Crushing globs of brain and blood under his leather boots, Isma disappeared through the door, leaving reddish-black footprints behind him.
Reincarnation of the Goddess: Table of Contents
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Part 1: Night of Demons
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Part 2: Transfer
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Part 3: Possession
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Part 4: Down the Road
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Part 5: Sword of Flame
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Epilogue
Friday, January 19, 2007
Epilogue
Thump, Thump.
Something was throbbing. It was a slight rythm, but was definitely there.
Nakajima had already awoken earlier. He had felt warmth, and felt as if he wanted to remain immersed in sleep for just a little longer. As if suddenlystruck by a wave of sentimentality, Nakajima slowly he opened his eyelids. He found that his arms were wrapped around Yumiko. A bittersweet fragrance wafted vibrantly from her body.
"Yumiko..." Hesitantly, Nakajima spoke.
She showed no response to his breath. But she had definitely returned to life. Her formerly rent mouth had returned to its lovely original shope, and her slightly opened lips shivered slightly as she breathed. Her eye sockets were now covered with well-formed eyelids, and her cheeks had a slight pink hue to them.
Nakajima's impatience was enveloped by an untainted presence.
"Don't worry. She will awaken soon enough."
Turning around, Nakajima saw Izanami standing above him. Though her hair was matted with green blood, her shining, beautiful expression, full of kindness, calmed his soul.
The goddess opened her lips. "I will take care of her for a while."
Nakajima was perplexed by her statement.
"It will not be long; only until I strengthen her enough so that she can fight demons."
"Fight demons? But Loki's dead!"
The goddess approached, took Nakajima's hands and looked into his eyes. That instant, white light shone throughout the space in front of his eyes, and all color vanished from his field of vision.
"Look at this scene, Nakajima." Her voice full of worry, Izanami's voice hinted at the gravity of the situation.
As Izanami's fingers grabbed Nakajima's hands, an image clearly formed amongst the white space.
In the Jusho High CAI room that Nakajima was so familiar with, Ohara was sitting at a terminal, desperately talking.
"Loki, why won't you answer!?"
Gripping the microphone as she faced the silent computer, the image of Ohara trembled. Turning the power on and off again and again, she tried to run the demon summoning program. But the host computer's magnetic tapes remained motionless. Only the fans of the air conditioner disturbed the silence of the CAI room.
"Ooh..." Ohara stooped over and grabbed her lower belly. All the blood drained from her face. As if a sign that she was carrying the child of a demon within her, scales had started growing on the white nape of her neck.
"Don't kick!" Ohara whispered as if to scold the new life growing inside her.
As Ohara continued typing on the keyboard with a prayerful look on her face, the magnetic tapes started spinning as if mocking her on a whim.
"Loki, is that you!?" Ohara's eyes glimmered with joy. She tightly gripped the microphone.
"I've been worried about you, Loki!"
At Ohara's words, the magnetic tape slowed its spinning, as if in hesitation. As Ohara cocked her head in suspicion, a low, hoarse voice sounded from the speakers.
"I am Set. Are you the one that calls me?"
"Set? I'm looking for Loki. Loki, please respond. Where are you?" Ohara's hysterical voice echoed throughout the CAI room.
"My name is Set. You are insolent to call the name of another..."
As Izanami let go of Nakajima's hands, the image dispersed, and in its place a gloomy space spread out before his eyes. Sweat from his temples trickled down his neck.
"Set!? That's the most powerful evil god from Egyptian legend!" Nakajima's voice was shaking.
"It's not just Set. Many demons have sensed the pathway you opened to their world, kindling their ambition to conquer the human world. More than just a handful of demons are looking to make an alliance with you...." Izanami's voice was solemn and full of gravity.
Trying to push any indecision out of his mind, Nakajima closed his eyes and spoke.
"This is all my doing, and I have to reap the seeds that I have sown. My mission now is to find a way to close the passageway to the demon world and do so."
"Well spoken." Izanami's expression softened slightly. "It will be difficult, but I am confident your efforts will eventually pay off. I cannot descend to the material world myself so I cannot fight alongside you. However, I will give you Hi-no-Kagutsuchi instead. He is a god that will lend you great power as a sword of flame when you are in danger. Hi-no-Kagutsuchi's power is a force to be reckoned with even amongst the gods of Yamato, and will surely help you."
While listening to Izanami, Nakajima could not help but feel anxious about the still-sleeping Yumiko. Perhaps she knew what he was feeling as the goddess gently put her hand on his shoulder.
"I will give this girl my power. And when she has gotten strong enough to defend herself on her own, I will return her to you. You'll wait that long, right?" Not waiting for an answer to her question, Izanami turned away from Nakajima.
"Soon a messenger from Yomi will come to pick up your friend. Until then, enjoy your brief reunion." With a smile, Izanami quietly lay on top of the dais. As she vanished as if dissolving into the very air, ashes in the form of a human figure remained behind on the stone slab.
"Izanami..." As Nakajima reflexively started toward the disappearing vision of the goddess, a familiar voice called him to a stop.
"Nakajima, you kept your promise to me!" Turning around, he saw Yumiko looking back at him, her chocolate-brown eyes filled with kindness. Delicate and pure, she leapt into Nakajima's waiting arms.
Something was throbbing. It was a slight rythm, but was definitely there.
Nakajima had already awoken earlier. He had felt warmth, and felt as if he wanted to remain immersed in sleep for just a little longer. As if suddenlystruck by a wave of sentimentality, Nakajima slowly he opened his eyelids. He found that his arms were wrapped around Yumiko. A bittersweet fragrance wafted vibrantly from her body.
"Yumiko..." Hesitantly, Nakajima spoke.
She showed no response to his breath. But she had definitely returned to life. Her formerly rent mouth had returned to its lovely original shope, and her slightly opened lips shivered slightly as she breathed. Her eye sockets were now covered with well-formed eyelids, and her cheeks had a slight pink hue to them.
Nakajima's impatience was enveloped by an untainted presence.
"Don't worry. She will awaken soon enough."
Turning around, Nakajima saw Izanami standing above him. Though her hair was matted with green blood, her shining, beautiful expression, full of kindness, calmed his soul.
The goddess opened her lips. "I will take care of her for a while."
Nakajima was perplexed by her statement.
"It will not be long; only until I strengthen her enough so that she can fight demons."
"Fight demons? But Loki's dead!"
The goddess approached, took Nakajima's hands and looked into his eyes. That instant, white light shone throughout the space in front of his eyes, and all color vanished from his field of vision.
"Look at this scene, Nakajima." Her voice full of worry, Izanami's voice hinted at the gravity of the situation.
As Izanami's fingers grabbed Nakajima's hands, an image clearly formed amongst the white space.
In the Jusho High CAI room that Nakajima was so familiar with, Ohara was sitting at a terminal, desperately talking.
"Loki, why won't you answer!?"
Gripping the microphone as she faced the silent computer, the image of Ohara trembled. Turning the power on and off again and again, she tried to run the demon summoning program. But the host computer's magnetic tapes remained motionless. Only the fans of the air conditioner disturbed the silence of the CAI room.
"Ooh..." Ohara stooped over and grabbed her lower belly. All the blood drained from her face. As if a sign that she was carrying the child of a demon within her, scales had started growing on the white nape of her neck.
"Don't kick!" Ohara whispered as if to scold the new life growing inside her.
As Ohara continued typing on the keyboard with a prayerful look on her face, the magnetic tapes started spinning as if mocking her on a whim.
"Loki, is that you!?" Ohara's eyes glimmered with joy. She tightly gripped the microphone.
"I've been worried about you, Loki!"
At Ohara's words, the magnetic tape slowed its spinning, as if in hesitation. As Ohara cocked her head in suspicion, a low, hoarse voice sounded from the speakers.
"I am Set. Are you the one that calls me?"
"Set? I'm looking for Loki. Loki, please respond. Where are you?" Ohara's hysterical voice echoed throughout the CAI room.
"My name is Set. You are insolent to call the name of another..."
As Izanami let go of Nakajima's hands, the image dispersed, and in its place a gloomy space spread out before his eyes. Sweat from his temples trickled down his neck.
"Set!? That's the most powerful evil god from Egyptian legend!" Nakajima's voice was shaking.
"It's not just Set. Many demons have sensed the pathway you opened to their world, kindling their ambition to conquer the human world. More than just a handful of demons are looking to make an alliance with you...." Izanami's voice was solemn and full of gravity.
Trying to push any indecision out of his mind, Nakajima closed his eyes and spoke.
"This is all my doing, and I have to reap the seeds that I have sown. My mission now is to find a way to close the passageway to the demon world and do so."
"Well spoken." Izanami's expression softened slightly. "It will be difficult, but I am confident your efforts will eventually pay off. I cannot descend to the material world myself so I cannot fight alongside you. However, I will give you Hi-no-Kagutsuchi instead. He is a god that will lend you great power as a sword of flame when you are in danger. Hi-no-Kagutsuchi's power is a force to be reckoned with even amongst the gods of Yamato, and will surely help you."
While listening to Izanami, Nakajima could not help but feel anxious about the still-sleeping Yumiko. Perhaps she knew what he was feeling as the goddess gently put her hand on his shoulder.
"I will give this girl my power. And when she has gotten strong enough to defend herself on her own, I will return her to you. You'll wait that long, right?" Not waiting for an answer to her question, Izanami turned away from Nakajima.
"Soon a messenger from Yomi will come to pick up your friend. Until then, enjoy your brief reunion." With a smile, Izanami quietly lay on top of the dais. As she vanished as if dissolving into the very air, ashes in the form of a human figure remained behind on the stone slab.
"Izanami..." As Nakajima reflexively started toward the disappearing vision of the goddess, a familiar voice called him to a stop.
"Nakajima, you kept your promise to me!" Turning around, he saw Yumiko looking back at him, her chocolate-brown eyes filled with kindness. Delicate and pure, she leapt into Nakajima's waiting arms.
Part 5: Chapter 5
Though he had made it all the way to Izanami's burial chamber, Nakajima had no idea how to make contact with her, so was at a loss for what to do. A cold chill ran down his spine, and as he looked around, not knowing what just happened, he found himself staring at Loki, who was looking in through the entrance to the chamber. Unable to make a sound, Nakajima just stood still, rooted to the spot.
"Well, it's nice to see you're doing well." Loki calmly folded his arms as he spoke intimidatingly.
Shielding Yumiko's body behind him, Nakajima carefully and cautiously watched Loki to see what he would do. If he had half a mind to, he could easily demolish him in his current defenseless state. So why wasn't he trying to come inside the burial chamber?
Before long, Nakajima's eyes were drawn to the silver relief carved into the floor by the entrance of the chamber. The Hexagram was preventing Loki from entering--that was the only possible explanation. As if maybe he had realized what Nakajima had been thinking, Loki started talking to him in a coaxing tone.
"Nakajima, there is no reason to fear me. If you join forces with me again, you can rule the human world!"
"Hah! You think that will work after you tried to kill me? To start with, I didn't run away from you in the first place. I've got to bring Yumiko back to life, whatever it takes. Now go away and don't bother me."
"You want to revive the woman? Then why don't you ask me to? It would be only too simple for me to teach you the art of Soul-Returning."
The art of Soul-Returning was a spell to revive the dead. However, even if the spell could completly restore a person's body, it could not restore their soul as well.
"The art of Soul-Returning? Are you seriously asking me to replace Yumiko's pure soul with that of a demon!?"
"Pure, you say?" Snickering, Loki opened is jet-black eyes wide as if to coerce Nakajima.
"That seems like an unlikely choice of words for a human who has willfully joined forces with demons. Look at my eyes!" Loki's voice was full of power that was difficult to defy. Reflexively looking into the demon's eyes, Nakajima gulped at the horrific vision that he saw deep within them.
Countless people with heads wrenched off and severed by demon tentacles. Eyes rotting and oozing out of their sockets. Flowing rivers of fresh blood. Kondo Hiroyuki, Takamizawa Kyoko, and a host of women he had never seen before glared at Nakajima, hatred and curses in their eyes. He could almost hear their anguished cries.
"Take a good look, Nakajima. This is all what you wanted. It was none other than you that called me here to the Assiah World." Loki's hearty laughter ripped deep into Nakajima's soul. But the faint smell of flowers kept Nakajima from breaking down completely.
"The very least I can do now is bring Yumiko back to life."
"Without using the art of Soul-Returning, what can a mere human do to revive the dead?"
"You're very right that I can't do anything myself. But the spirit of Izanami, resting in this burial chamber, will grant my wish."
"Such foolishness!" Loki grinned and laughed. But his lips were twisted somewhat unnaturally. Even with the protection of his thick bronze skin, the crimson paint was starting to consume the demon's body little by little.
"Very well then. If that corpse is so importent to you, then knock yourself out." At some point, Loki's laugh had turned into a roar of anger. His pitch-black eyes, full of hatred, turned to Yumiko's corpse. Suddenly white vapor started rising out of her body, and a horrible rotting smell assaulted Nakajima's nostrils.
"Stop it!" Trying to shield her from Loki's gaze, Nakajima ran over to Yumiko. But as he put his hand to the nape of her neck, it came back covered in rotted skin and wet with meaty juices. Unable to control himself, Nakajima vomited into his hand, blackened and covered by the fleshy liquids. Right as Yumiko's neck seemed to droop into an unnatural position, her eyeballs rolled out of her head and onto the floor, trailing blood behind them. Where her nose once was was nothing but a hole in with a few scraps of flesh left in it. Her hair separated from her rotting scalp and fell to the floor. Yumiko's white teeth became visible where her lips rotted away and tore off. Staring dumbfoundedly at her, Nakajima became even more terrified. Yumiko's hand started to move on its own, slowly. His whole body drenched in cold sweat, Nakajima stepped back away from her.
"Why are you doing this to me? Please let me die!" Yumiko finally stood up on her own.
"Please, kill me..." Speaking indistinctively, Yumiko approached Nakajima. Each step she took, a pot shattered, and the pomade inside flowed out onto the floor. Her fingers, merely bone now that their flesh had rotted off, grasped at the air, trying to grab onto Nakajima's hand.
Having completely lost all capacity for reason, Nakajima shook his hand wildly as if to keep Yumiko away, and retreated further into the burial chamber. Slowly and steadily, as if being pulled in on an invisible line, she approached closer and closer to him. No matter how hideous she got, Nakajima could never harm Yumiko, and as he was pressed further and further back into the burial chamber, he placed his hand down onto the granite dais, picked up a handful of ash, and threw it at Yumiko.
Ancient magicians had used ash as a ward against evil spirits, and perhaps memories of this had lodged somewhere deep in Nakajima's subconcious. As the ash landed on the pomade spilling from the broken pots, it flew back up into the air despite there being no hint of a breeze, and started assembling into an image, highlighted like a hologram. The instant Yumiko's extended hand was about to grab onto Nakajima's throat, her body was enveloped in a flash of crimson.
The spell controlling her cadaver like a puppet was broken. The power flooded out of Yumiko's corpse, and it crumpled to the ground.
"I'm glad you made it, Nakajima." Nakajima returned to his senses as the gentle voice called to him. Her eyes full of kindness, a woman that looked exactly like Yumiko was gazing at him. No, perhaps it was only her silhouette that matched Yumiko's. Her milky-white skin, concealing the divinity within, shone with a slight phosphorescent glow, and her chocolate-brown eyes glimmered with a light suggesting a wisdom clearly different than that of a human.
"Izanami..." Nakajima found himself kneeling all of a sudden. Nodding, the goddess turned toward Loki.
"Demon, return to your world!" Her voice was cold and harsh.
Loki smiled sarcastically, but his expression could not hide his uneasiness.
"You appear to be one of the Kunitsukami of Yamato--why do you go to such lengths to support these humans?"
"Because this girl is my reincarnation."
"Your reincarnation!?"
Loki spread his arms in an exaggerated motion. "Fine, then you can have the girl. In exchange, I will take the boy. It surely will benfit him to join forces with me as well. I still wish to avoid any unnecessary confrontation."
Holding his breath, Nakajima watched the two talk, and a shiver ran down his spine.
"You're just afraid that some other demon will get a hold of Nakajima and his knowledge." Saying so, Izanami strained her eyes and glared at Loki's chest. Red light exploded on his breast, and Loki stumbled back from the blow. The spontaneous combustion power she was using was many times more powerful than when she had possessed Yumiko.
"So that's your answer, eh!?" In anger, Loki's hair stood on end, and he glared at Izanami from the entrance of the burial chamber. But no matter what he did, he could not cross that silver relief. On the other hand, Izanami's power was not dealing any serious damage to him either. But as the two glared at each other, the goddess' expression clouded. Right at that moment, Nakajima noticed the form of a white silhouette in Loki's dark eyes.
I've seen that before...!
Reflected in Loki's eyes was not the Izanami standing before him, but her as a hideous cadaver, chasing after the man she loved.
"Take a good look, Izanami." Loki's low voice wavered the goddess' resolve.
"My eyes reflect whatever your deepest fears are like a mirror. The more you look at them, the more your own fears will make you tremble. I must say that you're quite hideous--I have trouble believing this is your true form." As if to add fuel to the fire Loki was kindling, the image of a single person appeared, that of the young Izanagi, running in terror from the hideous Izanami chasing him.
"Your mate abandoned you because of your ugliness? How pathetic. Heh, heh, heh."
"You dirty..." Forgetting herself in the humiliation, Izanami started walking towards Loki, as if being pulled in.
"No, Izanami! If you leave the burial chamber, you'll be at Loki's mercy!" At Nakajima's words, Izanami painfully stopped in her tracks, and the dark shadow of someone darted behind her.
Loki's left hand was moving in a rythmical motion. By the time Izanami realized it was a spell to control the dead, it was already too late. Yumiko's corpse had stood up and shoved Izanami from behind, and in her surprise, the goddess stumbled outside of the burial chamber.
Making sure to stay out of her deadly line of sight, Loki kicked out Izanami's legs out from under her, and twisted her arm behind her back, pinning her to the ground.
"That was all too easy! It was foolish for a mere woman like you to try to resist me." The parts of Loki's body that were making contact with Izanami started to change from bronze into pink protoplasm.
"Kunitsukami of Yamato, I will impregnate you with the child of a demon."
With a stench seemingly capable of polluting the purest of substances, the repulsive blob started to spread over Izanami's body. Izanami looked at Nakajima, as if asking for help. But what could the unarmed Nakajima do against a demon that was capable of effortlessly restraining even a goddess? In a last-ditch effort, Nakajima entered a command into his handheld computer. Though trying to summon the electronic beast failed in the crimson burial pathway, the powerful aura in the burial chamber might act as a catalyst to bring its power back. As if in answer to Nakajima's prayers, Kerberos appeared in the chamber and let out a roar that shook its very walls, then stood ready for any orders.
"Kerberos, rescue Izanami!"
The outcome of the battle was clear from the outset. Even if Kerberos was at peak health, Loki was on an entirely different level of power, and Nakajima already knew what the result of such a match would be. Add to that the fact that the demon beast was already hurt and tired, and it became even all the more obvious. Even so, Kerberos resolutely leapt at Loki in attack. The beast's instinct had most likely already told it that this terrible enemy's one weak point was the protoplasmic area on his forehead. Dodging Loki's swipes, Kerberos clawed at Loki's forehead with his burly front paws, leapt away, and leapt at him again, repeating the attack pattern not letting up. Trying to fend off these attacks while using another hand to keep Izanami down, Loki was having more trouble fighting Kerberos than might have been expected.
Loki was not paying any attention to Nakajima at all.
If he was able to seize this chance and hit him in the wound in his forehead, he might be able to rescue Izanami. If only he had some sort of weapon...Nakajima desperately looked around the chamber, praying to find something he could use.
Right at that moment, Izanami cried out. Turning around in surprise, Nakajima saw her writhing in agony, still under Loki's restraint. But her eyes were not displaying any pain, and it almost seemed as if she was secretly trying to communicate something to him.
What is it you want to say?
Instinctively Nakajima started to step outside of the chamber. As if to warn him, the goddess glared at him, and cried out "Hurry! The fire!"
For an instant Loki was distracted by Izanami's words and looked in Nakajima's direction, but in that instant Kerberos seized the opportunity and slashed him in his forehead, once again drawing his attention.
Fire? What do you mean by fire?
In a moment of epiphany, Nakajima remembered the two spheres that Yomotsu-Shikome had given him. Praying that they would do something, he knocked them together. Twice, three times, pale fireworks shot out, but other than that nothing happened.
"Is this really want Izanami wants...?" Nakajima's palms started sweating with worry.
But the fireworks produced by the spheres knocked together in his last-ditch attempt at doing anything lit the pomade in the room. With a large roar, the flames leapt up and formed a circle in the air. In the center of the pale orange flames, the shape of a human's face formed, and flickered with purpose.
Hi-no-Kagutsuchi...
It was the god of fire, Hi-no-Kagutsuchi, whom Izanami gave birth to immediately before she first died. Even though he had not been taught that name by anyone, Nakajima somehow knew it. Instinctively Nakajima extended his right hand into the flames hovering into the air. Air swirling like a whirlwind, Hi-no-Kagutsuchi's flames painted a spiral shape in the air as they coiled around Nakajima's outstretched hand.
Nakajima bit down on his lip and tried to withstand the heat. It was not like the feeling of skin being scorched by flames, but instead a pain as if the flesh and bone making contact with the flame was somehow boiling, giving off heat from inside. Presently his flame-enveloped arm gave off a great flash of light. It was so blinding that even the battling Loki and Kerberos stopped for a moment.
Rubbing his dazzled eyes, Nakajima realized that in his hand, stretched upward toward the ceiling, he was gripping a sword giving off a crimson phosphorescent glow. An overwhelming power the likes of which he had never experienced flowed through his body.
Without hesitation, Nakajima leapt out of the burial chamber. With this sword giving off an unimaginable aura in his field of vision, Loki's movements faltered for an instant. Not missing a beat, Kerberos bared his fangs and attacked, and the instant Loki tried to brush him aside with his hand, he left his face wide open.
Nakajima thrust the blade forward with all his might. Reflexively, Loki let go of Izanami and tried to cover his forehead with his right hand, but Nakajima's sword clove it in two and with a feeling of heavy resistance, sunk deep into Loki's forehead.
"GYAAAH!"
Loki's cry shook the very walls of the burial pathway. Holding his forehead with his left hand, sword still embedded therein, Loki staggered to his feet. From the lower protoplasmic mass of his lower body, the demon's bronze upper body underwent a rapid transformation. With an unpleasant slimy sound, his bronze skin crumbled away, and the impaled sword clattered to the ground. Loki's entire body transformed into an undefined, undulating lump.
Standing dumbfounded at his own unexpected power, Nakajima watched as one section of the unstable mass of flesh in front of him started throbbing. Suddenly, as if it was a separate life form of its own, a green heart broke through the skin of the protoplasmic mass and tumbled onto the floor. It started to draw a strange figure on the floor with the stream of green blood flowing on it. As it did so, the air seemed to twist in on itself slightly, centered on the figure the heart was drawing.
"That is Loki! Nakajima, do not let the demon escape!"
Pulled back to his senses by Izanami's voice, Nakajima swiftly picked up the Hi-no-Kagutsuchi sword off the floor and thrust it into the heart of Loki as it tried to escape into the warped space.
After an instant of silence, the heart burst like a popped balloon. The undefined mass of flesh stopped writhing.
The silence was broken the next instant as Nakajima was assaulted by a rumbling roar from deep under the floor of the underground valley. Crimson stones started falling from the high ceiling blanketed in darkness.
Still holding the sword, Nakajima tumbled into the burial chamber, as if crawling through the rumbling underground space. The pots shattered one after another, spilling their pomade on the floor. Out of place amongst the chaos, the gentle smell of flowers wafted throughout the room.
"Yumiko..." As Nakajima tried to make out the glowing white form by the entrance of the burial chamber, his consciousness drifted far away.
"Well, it's nice to see you're doing well." Loki calmly folded his arms as he spoke intimidatingly.
Shielding Yumiko's body behind him, Nakajima carefully and cautiously watched Loki to see what he would do. If he had half a mind to, he could easily demolish him in his current defenseless state. So why wasn't he trying to come inside the burial chamber?
Before long, Nakajima's eyes were drawn to the silver relief carved into the floor by the entrance of the chamber. The Hexagram was preventing Loki from entering--that was the only possible explanation. As if maybe he had realized what Nakajima had been thinking, Loki started talking to him in a coaxing tone.
"Nakajima, there is no reason to fear me. If you join forces with me again, you can rule the human world!"
"Hah! You think that will work after you tried to kill me? To start with, I didn't run away from you in the first place. I've got to bring Yumiko back to life, whatever it takes. Now go away and don't bother me."
"You want to revive the woman? Then why don't you ask me to? It would be only too simple for me to teach you the art of Soul-Returning."
The art of Soul-Returning was a spell to revive the dead. However, even if the spell could completly restore a person's body, it could not restore their soul as well.
"The art of Soul-Returning? Are you seriously asking me to replace Yumiko's pure soul with that of a demon!?"
"Pure, you say?" Snickering, Loki opened is jet-black eyes wide as if to coerce Nakajima.
"That seems like an unlikely choice of words for a human who has willfully joined forces with demons. Look at my eyes!" Loki's voice was full of power that was difficult to defy. Reflexively looking into the demon's eyes, Nakajima gulped at the horrific vision that he saw deep within them.
Countless people with heads wrenched off and severed by demon tentacles. Eyes rotting and oozing out of their sockets. Flowing rivers of fresh blood. Kondo Hiroyuki, Takamizawa Kyoko, and a host of women he had never seen before glared at Nakajima, hatred and curses in their eyes. He could almost hear their anguished cries.
"Take a good look, Nakajima. This is all what you wanted. It was none other than you that called me here to the Assiah World." Loki's hearty laughter ripped deep into Nakajima's soul. But the faint smell of flowers kept Nakajima from breaking down completely.
"The very least I can do now is bring Yumiko back to life."
"Without using the art of Soul-Returning, what can a mere human do to revive the dead?"
"You're very right that I can't do anything myself. But the spirit of Izanami, resting in this burial chamber, will grant my wish."
"Such foolishness!" Loki grinned and laughed. But his lips were twisted somewhat unnaturally. Even with the protection of his thick bronze skin, the crimson paint was starting to consume the demon's body little by little.
"Very well then. If that corpse is so importent to you, then knock yourself out." At some point, Loki's laugh had turned into a roar of anger. His pitch-black eyes, full of hatred, turned to Yumiko's corpse. Suddenly white vapor started rising out of her body, and a horrible rotting smell assaulted Nakajima's nostrils.
"Stop it!" Trying to shield her from Loki's gaze, Nakajima ran over to Yumiko. But as he put his hand to the nape of her neck, it came back covered in rotted skin and wet with meaty juices. Unable to control himself, Nakajima vomited into his hand, blackened and covered by the fleshy liquids. Right as Yumiko's neck seemed to droop into an unnatural position, her eyeballs rolled out of her head and onto the floor, trailing blood behind them. Where her nose once was was nothing but a hole in with a few scraps of flesh left in it. Her hair separated from her rotting scalp and fell to the floor. Yumiko's white teeth became visible where her lips rotted away and tore off. Staring dumbfoundedly at her, Nakajima became even more terrified. Yumiko's hand started to move on its own, slowly. His whole body drenched in cold sweat, Nakajima stepped back away from her.
"Why are you doing this to me? Please let me die!" Yumiko finally stood up on her own.
"Please, kill me..." Speaking indistinctively, Yumiko approached Nakajima. Each step she took, a pot shattered, and the pomade inside flowed out onto the floor. Her fingers, merely bone now that their flesh had rotted off, grasped at the air, trying to grab onto Nakajima's hand.
Having completely lost all capacity for reason, Nakajima shook his hand wildly as if to keep Yumiko away, and retreated further into the burial chamber. Slowly and steadily, as if being pulled in on an invisible line, she approached closer and closer to him. No matter how hideous she got, Nakajima could never harm Yumiko, and as he was pressed further and further back into the burial chamber, he placed his hand down onto the granite dais, picked up a handful of ash, and threw it at Yumiko.
Ancient magicians had used ash as a ward against evil spirits, and perhaps memories of this had lodged somewhere deep in Nakajima's subconcious. As the ash landed on the pomade spilling from the broken pots, it flew back up into the air despite there being no hint of a breeze, and started assembling into an image, highlighted like a hologram. The instant Yumiko's extended hand was about to grab onto Nakajima's throat, her body was enveloped in a flash of crimson.
The spell controlling her cadaver like a puppet was broken. The power flooded out of Yumiko's corpse, and it crumpled to the ground.
"I'm glad you made it, Nakajima." Nakajima returned to his senses as the gentle voice called to him. Her eyes full of kindness, a woman that looked exactly like Yumiko was gazing at him. No, perhaps it was only her silhouette that matched Yumiko's. Her milky-white skin, concealing the divinity within, shone with a slight phosphorescent glow, and her chocolate-brown eyes glimmered with a light suggesting a wisdom clearly different than that of a human.
"Izanami..." Nakajima found himself kneeling all of a sudden. Nodding, the goddess turned toward Loki.
"Demon, return to your world!" Her voice was cold and harsh.
Loki smiled sarcastically, but his expression could not hide his uneasiness.
"You appear to be one of the Kunitsukami of Yamato--why do you go to such lengths to support these humans?"
"Because this girl is my reincarnation."
"Your reincarnation!?"
Loki spread his arms in an exaggerated motion. "Fine, then you can have the girl. In exchange, I will take the boy. It surely will benfit him to join forces with me as well. I still wish to avoid any unnecessary confrontation."
Holding his breath, Nakajima watched the two talk, and a shiver ran down his spine.
"You're just afraid that some other demon will get a hold of Nakajima and his knowledge." Saying so, Izanami strained her eyes and glared at Loki's chest. Red light exploded on his breast, and Loki stumbled back from the blow. The spontaneous combustion power she was using was many times more powerful than when she had possessed Yumiko.
"So that's your answer, eh!?" In anger, Loki's hair stood on end, and he glared at Izanami from the entrance of the burial chamber. But no matter what he did, he could not cross that silver relief. On the other hand, Izanami's power was not dealing any serious damage to him either. But as the two glared at each other, the goddess' expression clouded. Right at that moment, Nakajima noticed the form of a white silhouette in Loki's dark eyes.
I've seen that before...!
Reflected in Loki's eyes was not the Izanami standing before him, but her as a hideous cadaver, chasing after the man she loved.
"Take a good look, Izanami." Loki's low voice wavered the goddess' resolve.
"My eyes reflect whatever your deepest fears are like a mirror. The more you look at them, the more your own fears will make you tremble. I must say that you're quite hideous--I have trouble believing this is your true form." As if to add fuel to the fire Loki was kindling, the image of a single person appeared, that of the young Izanagi, running in terror from the hideous Izanami chasing him.
"Your mate abandoned you because of your ugliness? How pathetic. Heh, heh, heh."
"You dirty..." Forgetting herself in the humiliation, Izanami started walking towards Loki, as if being pulled in.
"No, Izanami! If you leave the burial chamber, you'll be at Loki's mercy!" At Nakajima's words, Izanami painfully stopped in her tracks, and the dark shadow of someone darted behind her.
Loki's left hand was moving in a rythmical motion. By the time Izanami realized it was a spell to control the dead, it was already too late. Yumiko's corpse had stood up and shoved Izanami from behind, and in her surprise, the goddess stumbled outside of the burial chamber.
Making sure to stay out of her deadly line of sight, Loki kicked out Izanami's legs out from under her, and twisted her arm behind her back, pinning her to the ground.
"That was all too easy! It was foolish for a mere woman like you to try to resist me." The parts of Loki's body that were making contact with Izanami started to change from bronze into pink protoplasm.
"Kunitsukami of Yamato, I will impregnate you with the child of a demon."
With a stench seemingly capable of polluting the purest of substances, the repulsive blob started to spread over Izanami's body. Izanami looked at Nakajima, as if asking for help. But what could the unarmed Nakajima do against a demon that was capable of effortlessly restraining even a goddess? In a last-ditch effort, Nakajima entered a command into his handheld computer. Though trying to summon the electronic beast failed in the crimson burial pathway, the powerful aura in the burial chamber might act as a catalyst to bring its power back. As if in answer to Nakajima's prayers, Kerberos appeared in the chamber and let out a roar that shook its very walls, then stood ready for any orders.
"Kerberos, rescue Izanami!"
The outcome of the battle was clear from the outset. Even if Kerberos was at peak health, Loki was on an entirely different level of power, and Nakajima already knew what the result of such a match would be. Add to that the fact that the demon beast was already hurt and tired, and it became even all the more obvious. Even so, Kerberos resolutely leapt at Loki in attack. The beast's instinct had most likely already told it that this terrible enemy's one weak point was the protoplasmic area on his forehead. Dodging Loki's swipes, Kerberos clawed at Loki's forehead with his burly front paws, leapt away, and leapt at him again, repeating the attack pattern not letting up. Trying to fend off these attacks while using another hand to keep Izanami down, Loki was having more trouble fighting Kerberos than might have been expected.
Loki was not paying any attention to Nakajima at all.
If he was able to seize this chance and hit him in the wound in his forehead, he might be able to rescue Izanami. If only he had some sort of weapon...Nakajima desperately looked around the chamber, praying to find something he could use.
Right at that moment, Izanami cried out. Turning around in surprise, Nakajima saw her writhing in agony, still under Loki's restraint. But her eyes were not displaying any pain, and it almost seemed as if she was secretly trying to communicate something to him.
What is it you want to say?
Instinctively Nakajima started to step outside of the chamber. As if to warn him, the goddess glared at him, and cried out "Hurry! The fire!"
For an instant Loki was distracted by Izanami's words and looked in Nakajima's direction, but in that instant Kerberos seized the opportunity and slashed him in his forehead, once again drawing his attention.
Fire? What do you mean by fire?
In a moment of epiphany, Nakajima remembered the two spheres that Yomotsu-Shikome had given him. Praying that they would do something, he knocked them together. Twice, three times, pale fireworks shot out, but other than that nothing happened.
"Is this really want Izanami wants...?" Nakajima's palms started sweating with worry.
But the fireworks produced by the spheres knocked together in his last-ditch attempt at doing anything lit the pomade in the room. With a large roar, the flames leapt up and formed a circle in the air. In the center of the pale orange flames, the shape of a human's face formed, and flickered with purpose.
Hi-no-Kagutsuchi...
It was the god of fire, Hi-no-Kagutsuchi, whom Izanami gave birth to immediately before she first died. Even though he had not been taught that name by anyone, Nakajima somehow knew it. Instinctively Nakajima extended his right hand into the flames hovering into the air. Air swirling like a whirlwind, Hi-no-Kagutsuchi's flames painted a spiral shape in the air as they coiled around Nakajima's outstretched hand.
Nakajima bit down on his lip and tried to withstand the heat. It was not like the feeling of skin being scorched by flames, but instead a pain as if the flesh and bone making contact with the flame was somehow boiling, giving off heat from inside. Presently his flame-enveloped arm gave off a great flash of light. It was so blinding that even the battling Loki and Kerberos stopped for a moment.
Rubbing his dazzled eyes, Nakajima realized that in his hand, stretched upward toward the ceiling, he was gripping a sword giving off a crimson phosphorescent glow. An overwhelming power the likes of which he had never experienced flowed through his body.
Without hesitation, Nakajima leapt out of the burial chamber. With this sword giving off an unimaginable aura in his field of vision, Loki's movements faltered for an instant. Not missing a beat, Kerberos bared his fangs and attacked, and the instant Loki tried to brush him aside with his hand, he left his face wide open.
Nakajima thrust the blade forward with all his might. Reflexively, Loki let go of Izanami and tried to cover his forehead with his right hand, but Nakajima's sword clove it in two and with a feeling of heavy resistance, sunk deep into Loki's forehead.
"GYAAAH!"
Loki's cry shook the very walls of the burial pathway. Holding his forehead with his left hand, sword still embedded therein, Loki staggered to his feet. From the lower protoplasmic mass of his lower body, the demon's bronze upper body underwent a rapid transformation. With an unpleasant slimy sound, his bronze skin crumbled away, and the impaled sword clattered to the ground. Loki's entire body transformed into an undefined, undulating lump.
Standing dumbfounded at his own unexpected power, Nakajima watched as one section of the unstable mass of flesh in front of him started throbbing. Suddenly, as if it was a separate life form of its own, a green heart broke through the skin of the protoplasmic mass and tumbled onto the floor. It started to draw a strange figure on the floor with the stream of green blood flowing on it. As it did so, the air seemed to twist in on itself slightly, centered on the figure the heart was drawing.
"That is Loki! Nakajima, do not let the demon escape!"
Pulled back to his senses by Izanami's voice, Nakajima swiftly picked up the Hi-no-Kagutsuchi sword off the floor and thrust it into the heart of Loki as it tried to escape into the warped space.
After an instant of silence, the heart burst like a popped balloon. The undefined mass of flesh stopped writhing.
The silence was broken the next instant as Nakajima was assaulted by a rumbling roar from deep under the floor of the underground valley. Crimson stones started falling from the high ceiling blanketed in darkness.
Still holding the sword, Nakajima tumbled into the burial chamber, as if crawling through the rumbling underground space. The pots shattered one after another, spilling their pomade on the floor. Out of place amongst the chaos, the gentle smell of flowers wafted throughout the room.
"Yumiko..." As Nakajima tried to make out the glowing white form by the entrance of the burial chamber, his consciousness drifted far away.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Part 5: Chapter 4
At that moment, Yomotsu-Shikome hurried her pace, sensing a new presence after having led Nakajima to the burial chamber. As she rarely displayed any sort of emotion outwardly, it was unclear whether or not she was thinking "There sure are a lot of intruders today!" but in the thousands of years during which she had protected the sanctity of the Kofun tomb, there was never a time before when it had seen two visitors on the same day. Presently she came upon Loki running down the burial corridor, and she stretched her slimy arms out as far as they could go to block his passage.
"RAUIERE!" Yomotsu-Shikome tried to tell him something in a foreign tongue. She could sense that this intruder possessed a power much different and far greater than the human tomb robbers that had foolishly wandered in before. If possible, she wanted to repel him without having to fight.
Caught off guard, Loki stood still and narrowed his jet-black eyes, as if sizing up the power of this new arrival. Then, he started to walk forward calmly, an arrogant smirk on his face.
Traveling so fast it was not even visible, Loki's fist slammed into Yomotsu-Shikome's still-extended shoulder. Without even a chance to cry out, the monster woman was slammed against the rock wall, her flailing purple-flecked legs kicking at the cold stone floor.
"Did you really think you would be able to stop me?" Loki mocked Yomotsu-Shikome as she finally managed to stand back up.
Having fully regained her senses, Yomotsu-Shikome charged at Loki, bellowing threats at him. But Loki did not even attempt to dodge, and merely grabbed the arm of the fearsomely charging monster woman, and twisted it hard. In an instant, Yomotsu-Shikome's arm was torn off below the elbow, and fresh blood gushed out of the wound. Realizing that she couldn't stand a chance of defeating him by sheer strength, the monster woman made a suicidal charge at Loki, attempting to pin him with her overwhelming weight, and surprised, he fell over as she crashed into him. But even though her attack succeeded, Yomotsu-Shikome's fangs could not penetrate his bronze skin as she attempted to tear out his throat, merely making harmless scraping sounds against his neck.
As Loki plunged his sharp talons into Yomotsu-Shikome's chest and tore out her heart, he nonchalantly threw aside the monster woman as she let out a horrible death cry, proceeding down the path as if nothing had happened.
"Izanami, Izanami...."
Yomotsu-Shikome's sorrowful cries soon became quieter than the gentle breeze flowing through the corridor.
"RAUIERE!" Yomotsu-Shikome tried to tell him something in a foreign tongue. She could sense that this intruder possessed a power much different and far greater than the human tomb robbers that had foolishly wandered in before. If possible, she wanted to repel him without having to fight.
Caught off guard, Loki stood still and narrowed his jet-black eyes, as if sizing up the power of this new arrival. Then, he started to walk forward calmly, an arrogant smirk on his face.
Traveling so fast it was not even visible, Loki's fist slammed into Yomotsu-Shikome's still-extended shoulder. Without even a chance to cry out, the monster woman was slammed against the rock wall, her flailing purple-flecked legs kicking at the cold stone floor.
"Did you really think you would be able to stop me?" Loki mocked Yomotsu-Shikome as she finally managed to stand back up.
Having fully regained her senses, Yomotsu-Shikome charged at Loki, bellowing threats at him. But Loki did not even attempt to dodge, and merely grabbed the arm of the fearsomely charging monster woman, and twisted it hard. In an instant, Yomotsu-Shikome's arm was torn off below the elbow, and fresh blood gushed out of the wound. Realizing that she couldn't stand a chance of defeating him by sheer strength, the monster woman made a suicidal charge at Loki, attempting to pin him with her overwhelming weight, and surprised, he fell over as she crashed into him. But even though her attack succeeded, Yomotsu-Shikome's fangs could not penetrate his bronze skin as she attempted to tear out his throat, merely making harmless scraping sounds against his neck.
As Loki plunged his sharp talons into Yomotsu-Shikome's chest and tore out her heart, he nonchalantly threw aside the monster woman as she let out a horrible death cry, proceeding down the path as if nothing had happened.
"Izanami, Izanami...."
Yomotsu-Shikome's sorrowful cries soon became quieter than the gentle breeze flowing through the corridor.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Part 5: Chapter 3
Meanwhile, Nakajima had reached the end of the burial pathway, led by Yomotsu-Shikome. Before him stood a burial chamber. It had to be the spot where Izanami lay.
I've finally made it here...
The chamber itself had no door, but a silvery, fluorescent relief in the floor by the entrance gave off an aura as if guarding the chamber within. It resembled a Solomon Hexagram quite a bit.
Yomotsu-Shikome with her chin as if to urge him inside. As Nakajima started to enter, she gently placed Yumiko down so that he could carry her on his back.
"Aren't you coming in?"
As Nakajima spoke, the monster woman looked as if struck by fear and awe and shook her head. And all of a sudden, Yomotsu-Shikome thrust her long arm down her throat, all the way down to her elbow. Her green neck expanded, and she fiercely vomited. An awful stench wafted up from the bile, and Nakajima reflexively turned away. Yomotsu-Shikome, on the other hand, retrieved two glowing blue spheres from amongst the vomit and presented them to Nakajima. While he didn't particularly want to take them, he didn't want to ignore the beastly woman's kindness, and grimaced as he accepted the gift.
The phlegm-covered spheres felt very light, and fit perfectly into his hands.
"What are these?"
In response to Nakajima's question, the giant woman made a motion of striking her slimy hands together.
"Am I supposed to knock these together?"
Yomotsu-Shikome nodded over and over again, narrowed her eyes, and opened her mouth halfway.
Was that just a smile? Nakajima started to feel a fondness for the monster.
Right at that moment, the sound of someone's cry from the far end of the burial pathway echoed throughout the area. Yomotsu-Shikome shuddered with surprise. Looking behind several times regretfully, she started back along the path.
Stooping over so that Yumiko would not slide off his back, Nakajima wiped off the spheres given to him by the monster woman on his slacks, and knocked them together forcefully. Bright orange fireworks flew in all directions, but aside from that, nothing seemed to happen.
Are these supposed to be used in some sort of ceremony or something?
Unable to find an answer, Nakajima dropped the two spheres into his pocket and straddled over the relief under Yumiko's weight.
The burial chamber itself smelled slightly of flowers. It was about four meters long in every direction. Dozens of pots as high as Nakajima's waist were lined up all around the room. Looking inside them, he could see oil gathered in the bottom. It appeared to be what was giving off the smell of flowers. Most likely, it was a pomade offered to Izanami. Right in front of him stood a white granite dais. On top of it lay ashes in the form of a cross--no, that of a person lying on their back.
I've finally made it here...
The chamber itself had no door, but a silvery, fluorescent relief in the floor by the entrance gave off an aura as if guarding the chamber within. It resembled a Solomon Hexagram quite a bit.
Yomotsu-Shikome with her chin as if to urge him inside. As Nakajima started to enter, she gently placed Yumiko down so that he could carry her on his back.
"Aren't you coming in?"
As Nakajima spoke, the monster woman looked as if struck by fear and awe and shook her head. And all of a sudden, Yomotsu-Shikome thrust her long arm down her throat, all the way down to her elbow. Her green neck expanded, and she fiercely vomited. An awful stench wafted up from the bile, and Nakajima reflexively turned away. Yomotsu-Shikome, on the other hand, retrieved two glowing blue spheres from amongst the vomit and presented them to Nakajima. While he didn't particularly want to take them, he didn't want to ignore the beastly woman's kindness, and grimaced as he accepted the gift.
The phlegm-covered spheres felt very light, and fit perfectly into his hands.
"What are these?"
In response to Nakajima's question, the giant woman made a motion of striking her slimy hands together.
"Am I supposed to knock these together?"
Yomotsu-Shikome nodded over and over again, narrowed her eyes, and opened her mouth halfway.
Was that just a smile? Nakajima started to feel a fondness for the monster.
Right at that moment, the sound of someone's cry from the far end of the burial pathway echoed throughout the area. Yomotsu-Shikome shuddered with surprise. Looking behind several times regretfully, she started back along the path.
Stooping over so that Yumiko would not slide off his back, Nakajima wiped off the spheres given to him by the monster woman on his slacks, and knocked them together forcefully. Bright orange fireworks flew in all directions, but aside from that, nothing seemed to happen.
Are these supposed to be used in some sort of ceremony or something?
Unable to find an answer, Nakajima dropped the two spheres into his pocket and straddled over the relief under Yumiko's weight.
The burial chamber itself smelled slightly of flowers. It was about four meters long in every direction. Dozens of pots as high as Nakajima's waist were lined up all around the room. Looking inside them, he could see oil gathered in the bottom. It appeared to be what was giving off the smell of flowers. Most likely, it was a pomade offered to Izanami. Right in front of him stood a white granite dais. On top of it lay ashes in the form of a cross--no, that of a person lying on their back.
Part 5: Chapter 2
At that time, Loki swiftly entered Shirasagi Mound, and was standing before the passageway that Nakajima had passed through earlier.
"Just you wait, Nakajima. Soon, I will defile your precious woman before your very eyes before devouring you whole." With a twisted smile on his face, Loki transformed himself into an amorphous blob and oozed into the tunnel.
Loki descended the passageway that took Nakajima hours to traverse in mere minutes. Soon the blob of flesh made a squishing sound as it dropped to the stone floor of the plaza before the burial pathway. At that instant, its outer membrane hissed and gave off smoke as it started to melt.
"Damn you!"
Loki quickly transformed back into his bronze body, and kneeling on the ground, let loose a terrible howl. Most likely, he could not stand the chemical reaction that took place when his protoplasmic body came into contact with the mercuric sulfide. Even now, the one gelatinous place of his body between his eyes throbbed and pulsated.
Gritting his teeth and standing, Loki stared solemnly at the crimson burial road.
"Just you wait, Nakajima. Soon, I will defile your precious woman before your very eyes before devouring you whole." With a twisted smile on his face, Loki transformed himself into an amorphous blob and oozed into the tunnel.
Loki descended the passageway that took Nakajima hours to traverse in mere minutes. Soon the blob of flesh made a squishing sound as it dropped to the stone floor of the plaza before the burial pathway. At that instant, its outer membrane hissed and gave off smoke as it started to melt.
"Damn you!"
Loki quickly transformed back into his bronze body, and kneeling on the ground, let loose a terrible howl. Most likely, he could not stand the chemical reaction that took place when his protoplasmic body came into contact with the mercuric sulfide. Even now, the one gelatinous place of his body between his eyes throbbed and pulsated.
Gritting his teeth and standing, Loki stared solemnly at the crimson burial road.
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