PART 2: QUICKENING
Situated between Musashino city in the greater Tokyo metropolitan area and Mitaka city is a 6600-square-meter wooded area of mixed tree types called the Soga Forest. Thickly overgrown with ancient larch and beech trees growing in irregular patterns, this forest is a good place for children to play during the day.
However, the children who play in these woods never go near the swamp filled with dark green reeds and other water plants that is located in a corner of the forest. But this is not only because their parents strictly forbid them from any sort of risky playing in the water. The eerie aura given off by the delapidated old western-style house that was there enveloped the entire swamp itself, scaring off everyone who dared come near.
The house originally belonged to a former elite-turned-war criminal from the Second World War, and misfortune befell all who owned it thereafter. Since the last family that had lived there had been brutally slaughtered by robbers, it had been left untouched, with nobody daring to move in.
It was most likely that Isma's heightened sensitivity as a magician had caused him to pick this manor from among the places Shimazaki had proposed as a place to summon the demon.
The cool concrete walls of the underground storage room were completely exposed. A faint, strange smell wafted from one corner. The fluorescent lamp in the ceiling illuminated the not-yet-dry reddish-black paint of the bizarre symbol painted on the ground. It was mysterious geometric pattern, much like an abstract depiction of a bird's eye. In its center stood a large computer. From the computer extended a five-meter-long cable, connecting to a keyboard and display in the middle of a Solomon Hexagram.
"The preparations for the summoning of Set are complete..." Isma's frigid voice echoed off the concrete walls as he faced the screen. Shortly earlier, that screen had been displaying pictographs that looked like Egyptian heiroglyphs.
Shimazaki, who was standing in a corner of the Solomon Hexagram, licked his lips and peered into the display, his eyes full of both expectation and uneasiness at the same time.
Isma's bony fingers started tapping the keys. The hard disk gave off a whine as it started slowly spinning, and an unintelligible pattern started flashing onscreen. Soon the screen went black, and after an instant of silence, an earthquake rumbled, shaking the very foundations of the manor. Shimazaki's eyes darted about the room in terror, but Isma showed no signs of paying him any heed.
"He is here!" As Isma cried out, the floor around the computer started to crack and brilliant light shone out of the tiny fissures. A miasma started seeping out of the cracks, but the inside of the Solomon Hexagram was protected from being affected.
Presently, a writhing, hoarse voice spilled from the speakers.
"Who calls me?"
"I am thy romet, Isma Feed."
"I do not know that name." The voice, sounding as if it echoed from the bowels of Hell, terrified Shimazaki, who dropped to the floor in fear, cowering behind Isma's chair. Cruelly pushing his hands away, Isma stood up, as if in defiance of the display.
"Know that I plan to join forces with thee, child of Nut, and conquer the Assiah world."
"..."
For some time, silence filled the room.
The hard disk started spinning furiously, indicating that it was handling a huge amount of data. Then the low voice echoed through the room again.
"What do you offer me?"
"Anything thou desirest. However, only if thou lendst me thy power."
"Do you, a mere human, dare to consider yourself my equal?"
"Indeed I do. There is none other than I that can call thee into the Assiah world."
"How impudent..."
As the air around the computer started shimmering as if in a heat haze, a blistering wave assaulted Isma. Before the immense might of that wave of anger, even Isma took a step backwards. The iron girders holding up the ceiling bent like a bow, and the fluorescent tubes of the lights shattered and fell to the floor as dust. Shimazaki fell on his stomach to the floor, his hands over his head as if to protect it. But Isma showed no fear of the computer and simply kept glaring at it.
"Set, dost thou think that I do not know just how much thy desirest the Assiah world?" At the sound of his soft voice, the fierce wind died down.
"Thy legends still are known to this day--how thou killed thy elder brother Osiris, how thy turned all the all the other gods led by Horus against thee, and how thy fought them all and survived--all in order to make the Assiah world thy own."
"So what is it what you want to say...?" There was some hesitation in Set's voice.
"I have the technology to break the laws that bind thee and thy kind. Joining forces with me would be greatly benificial to thee as well, would it not?"
"Isma, or whoever it is you are, I vow in the name of Nut to form a contract with you." Set's voice reverberated throughout the room.
For a demon to vow in the name of one ranking above itself indicated an absolute, unbreakable bond. Isma's face lit up with a victorious smile.
"Set, tell me what it is thou wishest."
"Do you vow not to join forces with any demon than I?"
"Very well. If thou vowest to Nut not to join forces with any human other than I."
The demon Set and Isma started to go into the details of forming a concrete contract.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Part 1: Chapter 7
While Feed was at Jusho High, a man from the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office calling himself Saga was visiting Nakajima's high-rise apartment building in Suginami Ward. He was impeccably dressed and his speech and mannerisms were those of a gentleman. But Nakajima's mother, who responded to the door, had never even heard of any organization called the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office before. From the man's appearance, it appeared that this organization held a lot more power than just the police. How did these people have any connection with her son, Akemi?
"Ma'am, we really need your assistance in our investigation. For Akemi's sake, too..."
Nakajima's mother had not heard anything from her son about what happened to him at Jusho High that day. But since that day when he practically materialized from thin air in their living room, she sensed in a warmth in Nakajima's eyes that was not there before. They were kind eyes, full of a kindness that looked to her for aid and yet was there to protect her as well. He hadn't said anything; instead he just sat there with her after he appeared, deep in thought about something. She had tried hard to suppress her urge to ask him what had happened to him while he had gone missing. For some reason, she got the sense that Akemi would go far away again if she did. Finally, as if he had gotten his thoughts together, Akemi had stood up and shut himself up in his room, falling into a deep sleep as soon as his head hit his pillow. But that was enough for his mother. Her own mother's intuition told her that he had been through something terrible in that short week he was gone.
I don't know what happened to him. But at the very least, Akemi didn't abandon me. Nakajima's mother felt a new love for her son from the bottom of her heart.
I won't let anyone threaten Akemi, regardless of who they are!
Not knowing what to do in the face of this woman's harsh stare, the man calling himself Saga fished in his shirt pocket for a carton of cigarettes.
"I'm sorry, but could you lend me an ashtray?"
The moment he opened his mouth, the doorbell rang. Nakajima's mother immediately stood up and picked up the intercom hanging on the wall.
"....Yes. Your colleague just arrived. Hold on a minute, I'll let you in."
Pursing her lips together as if coming to a decision, she headed toward the foyer. Smiling bitterly, the man returned his cigarette to its box and followed after her.
"Ma'am, we really need your assistance in our investigation. For Akemi's sake, too..."
Nakajima's mother had not heard anything from her son about what happened to him at Jusho High that day. But since that day when he practically materialized from thin air in their living room, she sensed in a warmth in Nakajima's eyes that was not there before. They were kind eyes, full of a kindness that looked to her for aid and yet was there to protect her as well. He hadn't said anything; instead he just sat there with her after he appeared, deep in thought about something. She had tried hard to suppress her urge to ask him what had happened to him while he had gone missing. For some reason, she got the sense that Akemi would go far away again if she did. Finally, as if he had gotten his thoughts together, Akemi had stood up and shut himself up in his room, falling into a deep sleep as soon as his head hit his pillow. But that was enough for his mother. Her own mother's intuition told her that he had been through something terrible in that short week he was gone.
I don't know what happened to him. But at the very least, Akemi didn't abandon me. Nakajima's mother felt a new love for her son from the bottom of her heart.
I won't let anyone threaten Akemi, regardless of who they are!
Not knowing what to do in the face of this woman's harsh stare, the man calling himself Saga fished in his shirt pocket for a carton of cigarettes.
"I'm sorry, but could you lend me an ashtray?"
The moment he opened his mouth, the doorbell rang. Nakajima's mother immediately stood up and picked up the intercom hanging on the wall.
"....Yes. Your colleague just arrived. Hold on a minute, I'll let you in."
Pursing her lips together as if coming to a decision, she headed toward the foyer. Smiling bitterly, the man returned his cigarette to its box and followed after her.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Part 1: Chapter 6
The next day came. The lines of trees of Musashino, bathed in blazing light from the sun, flowed past in a sliding motion outside the Cadillac heading toward Jusho High.
"This is all the material you have on Nakajima Akemi?" Sitting in the plush back seat of the car, Feed spoke to the unshaven Detective Iwama sitting next to him.
"Yes. He's just an ordinary high school student, so there's not much more that we could find on him. But Dr. Feed, do you really think that Nakajima is the ringleader behind the whole incident?" Detective Iwama did not approve of this American, clearly some sort of scientist, interfering with his investigation.
"In a way, I imagine that he's actually a victim. But he certainly played a very large part in the incident."
"Do you have any evidence to prove that?" Iwama's voice barely concealed his irritation.
We investigated each one of the students ages ago. It's true that Nakajima Akemi appeared to be an unusual student, but there was no evidence of him having any violent tendicies. The teachers seemed to have a high opinion of him too.
But Feed was not paying any heed to Iwama's attitude, and instead was busily flipping through the materials in his hands.
"The records he left in the online database that I manage is the proof. The time that the incident at Jusho high took place was..."
"In Japanese time, it was July 13th, sometime between 10 and 12 AM," Narukawa, who was driving, interjected in an emotionless voice.
"At precisely that time, Nakajima was trying to talk to the AI, Craft, located on my servers in Arkham in Massachusetts."
"What!? If you had such critical information why didn't you tell us before...No, I'm sorry, pardon the outburst. I presume you will be releasing that information to us?"
"I'm here precisely because that information is not something that can be so easily released." Feed's voice was calm and composed.
"But this is an investigation..." As Iwama reflexively leaned ahead, the car suddenly slowed down, and he fell forward. The black Cadillac pulled in front of the gate of Jusho High.
Iwama entered the CAI room accompanied by Narukawa and Feed, grimaced at the heat and stench in the room, and explained the situation when the incident there had occurred.
"So then, you haven't been able to identify this matter yet?" Gathering some of the sticky substance sticking to some of the rubble into a petri dish with well-practiced movements, Feed questioned the detective.
"Unfortunately, not yet..." Iwama's face was sullen.
At that moment, a small sound from a transmitter rang from Narukawa's arm.
"Looks like I've got a message from HQ. Excuse me for a moment." As usual, Narukawa showed no waste in his movement. The face of the instructor in charge of the CAI room peered out from the machine room.
"I've readied the Host Computer. Please come this way." The air conditioner turned on, and cool air finally started blowing through the sauna-like room.
"Your machines are IBMs, I see." Feed started analyzing the contents of the programs on the host computer with the speed of one very familiar with their operation. As his bony fingers tapped the keys, a huge program list filled the screen.
"'MATHEMATICS 1.' That's not what I want!" A red mark was appended to the program he was analyzing.
Come to think of it, we probably should have checked the contents of the computer... While looking at Feed, absorbed in his work on the computer, with a sidelong glance, Iwama secretly regretted not having done so earlier.
"'ENGLISH READER 2.' That's not what I want either!"
Feed's eyes continued to dart through the program list like a hawk, until he finally lowered his shoulders with a sigh.
"Maybe the program I want to see isn't here. It may have been tacked onto the OS itself. Could I have a look at this system's operating manual?"
"If you need the manual, we keep it in the Teacher's Office..." The teacher in charge of the CAI room looked perplexed.
"Wait. Hold on a minute here..." Apparently discovering something he had overlooked, Feed cast an uneasy glance toward the teacher and Iwama.
"Nobody has touched this system since the incident, right?" Feed said in a skeptical tone.
"As a matter of proper police procedure, we have placed this room off-limits..." Not being able to directly answer Feed's question, Iwama looked at the teacher in an accusatory manner.
Right at that moment, Narukawa, who had come in at some point, handed Feed a memo.
"Nakajima has returned."
The moment his eyes read the scrap of paper, Feed's expression lit up.
"This is all the material you have on Nakajima Akemi?" Sitting in the plush back seat of the car, Feed spoke to the unshaven Detective Iwama sitting next to him.
"Yes. He's just an ordinary high school student, so there's not much more that we could find on him. But Dr. Feed, do you really think that Nakajima is the ringleader behind the whole incident?" Detective Iwama did not approve of this American, clearly some sort of scientist, interfering with his investigation.
"In a way, I imagine that he's actually a victim. But he certainly played a very large part in the incident."
"Do you have any evidence to prove that?" Iwama's voice barely concealed his irritation.
We investigated each one of the students ages ago. It's true that Nakajima Akemi appeared to be an unusual student, but there was no evidence of him having any violent tendicies. The teachers seemed to have a high opinion of him too.
But Feed was not paying any heed to Iwama's attitude, and instead was busily flipping through the materials in his hands.
"The records he left in the online database that I manage is the proof. The time that the incident at Jusho high took place was..."
"In Japanese time, it was July 13th, sometime between 10 and 12 AM," Narukawa, who was driving, interjected in an emotionless voice.
"At precisely that time, Nakajima was trying to talk to the AI, Craft, located on my servers in Arkham in Massachusetts."
"What!? If you had such critical information why didn't you tell us before...No, I'm sorry, pardon the outburst. I presume you will be releasing that information to us?"
"I'm here precisely because that information is not something that can be so easily released." Feed's voice was calm and composed.
"But this is an investigation..." As Iwama reflexively leaned ahead, the car suddenly slowed down, and he fell forward. The black Cadillac pulled in front of the gate of Jusho High.
Iwama entered the CAI room accompanied by Narukawa and Feed, grimaced at the heat and stench in the room, and explained the situation when the incident there had occurred.
"So then, you haven't been able to identify this matter yet?" Gathering some of the sticky substance sticking to some of the rubble into a petri dish with well-practiced movements, Feed questioned the detective.
"Unfortunately, not yet..." Iwama's face was sullen.
At that moment, a small sound from a transmitter rang from Narukawa's arm.
"Looks like I've got a message from HQ. Excuse me for a moment." As usual, Narukawa showed no waste in his movement. The face of the instructor in charge of the CAI room peered out from the machine room.
"I've readied the Host Computer. Please come this way." The air conditioner turned on, and cool air finally started blowing through the sauna-like room.
"Your machines are IBMs, I see." Feed started analyzing the contents of the programs on the host computer with the speed of one very familiar with their operation. As his bony fingers tapped the keys, a huge program list filled the screen.
"'MATHEMATICS 1.' That's not what I want!" A red mark was appended to the program he was analyzing.
Come to think of it, we probably should have checked the contents of the computer... While looking at Feed, absorbed in his work on the computer, with a sidelong glance, Iwama secretly regretted not having done so earlier.
"'ENGLISH READER 2.' That's not what I want either!"
Feed's eyes continued to dart through the program list like a hawk, until he finally lowered his shoulders with a sigh.
"Maybe the program I want to see isn't here. It may have been tacked onto the OS itself. Could I have a look at this system's operating manual?"
"If you need the manual, we keep it in the Teacher's Office..." The teacher in charge of the CAI room looked perplexed.
"Wait. Hold on a minute here..." Apparently discovering something he had overlooked, Feed cast an uneasy glance toward the teacher and Iwama.
"Nobody has touched this system since the incident, right?" Feed said in a skeptical tone.
"As a matter of proper police procedure, we have placed this room off-limits..." Not being able to directly answer Feed's question, Iwama looked at the teacher in an accusatory manner.
Right at that moment, Narukawa, who had come in at some point, handed Feed a memo.
"Nakajima has returned."
The moment his eyes read the scrap of paper, Feed's expression lit up.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Part 1: Chapter 5
At the same time that Isma was making his first chance meeting with Ohara, a foreigner was visiting the Chief Cabinet Secretary's office in the Prime Minister's estate.
"All right, Richard. I'll do my best for your friend, Dr. Feed." The Chief Cabinet Secretary, Fujita, hung up the phone, and perplexed, peered at the foreigner sitting on his sofa with steady eyes from behind his glasses. Pressing a button on his intercom, he barked a quick order--"Send in Narukawa from the Special Forces, Second Unit"--and stood up with a sigh.
"Dr. Feed, I've just accepted a request to see to your needs from Aide to the President Richard."
"Thank you." The tall and thin white man hurriedly stood up from the sofa. He had immaculate white hair and a white beard to match. He was Charles Feed, professor at MIT and founder of ISG.
"No need to hurry--hold on a minute, Dr. Feed." Trying to restrain his guest with an awkward smile, Fujita sat down on the sofa sitting across from Feed's.
"Why has someone as famous as you taken an interest in a missing persons report from a random high school in our country? I'm having trouble understanding why anyone as high-up as the Aide to the President would be getting involved in this..."
"Even if I tried to explain why, I doubt you'd believe me." Speaking in impeccable Japanese, Feed's expression clouded.
That moment, there was a knock on the door.
"Enter."
As Fujita turned around and spoke his order, a small, delicate man entered the room, closing the door behind him.
"Let me introduce you to Narukawa from the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office. You won't be able to conduct an investigation very easily going through the police's official channels. When this man is with you, I can guarantee that you will be able to go wherever you need to freely."
As Fujita finished his introduction, Narukawa extended his right hand out in greeting. There were burn scars on the pale back of his hand.
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Narukawa." The instant after Feed gripped Narukawa's hand, he looked up as if a bolt of electricity had shot through his body.
"Narukawa is a master of all sorts of martial arts. He will also serve as your bodyguard quite well." At Fujita's words, Narukawa looked up at Feed with a fearless smile on his slender face.
"All right, Richard. I'll do my best for your friend, Dr. Feed." The Chief Cabinet Secretary, Fujita, hung up the phone, and perplexed, peered at the foreigner sitting on his sofa with steady eyes from behind his glasses. Pressing a button on his intercom, he barked a quick order--"Send in Narukawa from the Special Forces, Second Unit"--and stood up with a sigh.
"Dr. Feed, I've just accepted a request to see to your needs from Aide to the President Richard."
"Thank you." The tall and thin white man hurriedly stood up from the sofa. He had immaculate white hair and a white beard to match. He was Charles Feed, professor at MIT and founder of ISG.
"No need to hurry--hold on a minute, Dr. Feed." Trying to restrain his guest with an awkward smile, Fujita sat down on the sofa sitting across from Feed's.
"Why has someone as famous as you taken an interest in a missing persons report from a random high school in our country? I'm having trouble understanding why anyone as high-up as the Aide to the President would be getting involved in this..."
"Even if I tried to explain why, I doubt you'd believe me." Speaking in impeccable Japanese, Feed's expression clouded.
That moment, there was a knock on the door.
"Enter."
As Fujita turned around and spoke his order, a small, delicate man entered the room, closing the door behind him.
"Let me introduce you to Narukawa from the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office. You won't be able to conduct an investigation very easily going through the police's official channels. When this man is with you, I can guarantee that you will be able to go wherever you need to freely."
As Fujita finished his introduction, Narukawa extended his right hand out in greeting. There were burn scars on the pale back of his hand.
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Narukawa." The instant after Feed gripped Narukawa's hand, he looked up as if a bolt of electricity had shot through his body.
"Narukawa is a master of all sorts of martial arts. He will also serve as your bodyguard quite well." At Fujita's words, Narukawa looked up at Feed with a fearless smile on his slender face.
Part 1: Chapter 4
While this was going on, Nakajima was standing still, alone in Izanami's burial chamber, deep below Asuka. After enjoying a brief reunion with Yumiko, who had been brought back to life by Izanami's power, the goddess had taken her off the the land of Yomi.
As Yumiko had been drawn into the battle with demons against her will, Izanami wanted to give her the ability to defend herself at the very least. Meanwhile, Nakajima had been ordered to return to the human world. But still sensing Yumiko's presence, he was reluctant to leave the room, and as he was mulling about, his ears started to ring slightly. Looking up, he realized that at some point the crimson walls of the tomb had disappeared, and that he was surrounded by an empty void, almost like outer space.
What's going on?
All of a sudden, Izanami's voice sounded in his head.
"Stand up. And think of the person that needs you the most. Return to her." Realizing that Izanami was using her power to return him to the human world, Nakajima immediately pictured Yumiko in his mind. Immediately in front of him, white mist swirled around and formed into the face of a human.
"Yumiko!" As Nakajima called out, the face dissipated back into white mist.
"Nakajima, there's someone that needs you much more than me." Yumiko's familiar voice whispered an admonishment into his ears.
Soon after, he heard another familiar voice, painfully crying out his name--"Akemi, Akemi." Reflexively, Nakajima covered his ears with his hands. But the voice calling to him became louder and louder, and Nakajima felt as if he was getting smaller as the voice became louder. The white mist condensed again, into the face of a beautiful woman that looked quite a lot like him--his mother.
"Stop! I don't want to see you!" Nakajima cried out like a petulant child. Nakajima's antipathy toward his mother, who hardly ever bothered with her family, might have been strong enough to completely overwhelm his ego. But the billowing mist gradually started to envelop him.
"No!" As Nakajima desperately resisted, the mist's movement slowed slightly, and his mother's beautiful face looked down at him with sadness in her eyes. Her kind stare opened the stubborn Nakajima's heart like the unraveling of ropes binding a body down.
"Mom..."
The minute the word left his lips, his body became as a drop of condensation in a mist and he was wrapped in a feeling of pure extacy. The mist enshrouding Nakajima quietly moved toward the void. There was no distance or time there.
I want to stay like this forever... Nakajima thought.
But at some point, he became aware of an image in the nothingness. The outlines of white walls and a familiar room's lighting formed, and the profile of his mother entered his field of vision.
"Mom..."
As Nakajima reflexively called out, he felt all the blood being pulled out of his body along with a floating sensation like being in a weightless environment, and the next instent, his body was hit with a twisting shock as he was tossed somewhere. As he moaned and sat up, he had already been returned to the human world from Izanami's burial chamber.
A familiar sofa and sideboard stood in front of him. There, in his old living room, his mother sat, dejectedly twirling her disheveled hair with her fingers, not making a single motion to fix it. Though her face looked so young that she was often mistaken for Nakajima's older sister, it now was full of creases and wrinkles, and she looked almost twenty years older than she did before. Looking up, Nakajima's mother saw him in front of her, and she gaped at him in amazement.
As soon as she confirmed that this was indeed her son, she let out a wail like a cry of anguish, rushed over to Nakajima and hugged him madly, crying all the while.
That was the first time that Nakajima realized just how much taller he had grown than his mother. The difference must have been there for several years, but in that period, living with his mother without making so much as the slightest physical contact with her, Nakajima hadn't really looked at her as his mother in a true sense. But for the first time, he was starting to feel that reality, and all of a sudden he felt a great love for her.
As he patted his sobbing mother on the back, Nakajima softly spoke to her.
"I'm sorry, mom..."
As Yumiko had been drawn into the battle with demons against her will, Izanami wanted to give her the ability to defend herself at the very least. Meanwhile, Nakajima had been ordered to return to the human world. But still sensing Yumiko's presence, he was reluctant to leave the room, and as he was mulling about, his ears started to ring slightly. Looking up, he realized that at some point the crimson walls of the tomb had disappeared, and that he was surrounded by an empty void, almost like outer space.
What's going on?
All of a sudden, Izanami's voice sounded in his head.
"Stand up. And think of the person that needs you the most. Return to her." Realizing that Izanami was using her power to return him to the human world, Nakajima immediately pictured Yumiko in his mind. Immediately in front of him, white mist swirled around and formed into the face of a human.
"Yumiko!" As Nakajima called out, the face dissipated back into white mist.
"Nakajima, there's someone that needs you much more than me." Yumiko's familiar voice whispered an admonishment into his ears.
Soon after, he heard another familiar voice, painfully crying out his name--"Akemi, Akemi." Reflexively, Nakajima covered his ears with his hands. But the voice calling to him became louder and louder, and Nakajima felt as if he was getting smaller as the voice became louder. The white mist condensed again, into the face of a beautiful woman that looked quite a lot like him--his mother.
"Stop! I don't want to see you!" Nakajima cried out like a petulant child. Nakajima's antipathy toward his mother, who hardly ever bothered with her family, might have been strong enough to completely overwhelm his ego. But the billowing mist gradually started to envelop him.
"No!" As Nakajima desperately resisted, the mist's movement slowed slightly, and his mother's beautiful face looked down at him with sadness in her eyes. Her kind stare opened the stubborn Nakajima's heart like the unraveling of ropes binding a body down.
"Mom..."
The minute the word left his lips, his body became as a drop of condensation in a mist and he was wrapped in a feeling of pure extacy. The mist enshrouding Nakajima quietly moved toward the void. There was no distance or time there.
I want to stay like this forever... Nakajima thought.
But at some point, he became aware of an image in the nothingness. The outlines of white walls and a familiar room's lighting formed, and the profile of his mother entered his field of vision.
"Mom..."
As Nakajima reflexively called out, he felt all the blood being pulled out of his body along with a floating sensation like being in a weightless environment, and the next instent, his body was hit with a twisting shock as he was tossed somewhere. As he moaned and sat up, he had already been returned to the human world from Izanami's burial chamber.
A familiar sofa and sideboard stood in front of him. There, in his old living room, his mother sat, dejectedly twirling her disheveled hair with her fingers, not making a single motion to fix it. Though her face looked so young that she was often mistaken for Nakajima's older sister, it now was full of creases and wrinkles, and she looked almost twenty years older than she did before. Looking up, Nakajima's mother saw him in front of her, and she gaped at him in amazement.
As soon as she confirmed that this was indeed her son, she let out a wail like a cry of anguish, rushed over to Nakajima and hugged him madly, crying all the while.
That was the first time that Nakajima realized just how much taller he had grown than his mother. The difference must have been there for several years, but in that period, living with his mother without making so much as the slightest physical contact with her, Nakajima hadn't really looked at her as his mother in a true sense. But for the first time, he was starting to feel that reality, and all of a sudden he felt a great love for her.
As he patted his sobbing mother on the back, Nakajima softly spoke to her.
"I'm sorry, mom..."
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Part 1: Chapter 3
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Part 5: Chapter 1
PART 5: SWORD OF FLAME
The cave sloped down gently, seemingly continuing on forever. Stiffening his limbs, Nakajima slowly held his balance, climbing backwards. As the sounds of his labored breathing echoed off the smooth walls of the shaft, the entrance far above him started to vanish in the distance. The reverberations made it almost sound as if Yumiko, strapped to Nakajima's back, was breathing, and several times Nakajima stopped and strained his ears.
But the shoulders of the corpse were as slumped over as usual, and stopping, Nakajima only detected the stench of death.
His sense of the passage of time was long gone. The tunnel was so long that he almost thought that it continued all the way to the center of the earth. Nakajima's arms and legs felt strained with the effort of supporting the weight of two bodies, and if he let his concentration slip for even a moment he felt that he would lose his grip and slide all the way down. Twisting his body, Nakajima pulled off his shoes and socks and continued downwards in bare feet. This way he could be more sure of his footholds. Had he been here by himself, he might have been able to slide all the way down the shaft. But if Yumiko's body was damaged, all his effort would have been for nothing.
All of a sudden, Nakajima found his feet in thin air.
"Agh!"
Desperately extending his arms foward and clawing at the air, a sense of loss, terror, and despair shot through Nakajima's body. An instant later. Nakajima was painfully slammed against a hard stone surface. He had fallen straight down about two or three meters. Unconsciously moving to protect Yumiko's body, Nakajima's shoulders and back took more of the shock than they should have, and unable to stand, he lost consciousness.
There was a faint light and a calm breeze. The cold caressing his cheek, Nakajima opened his heavy eyelids. A little ways away, Yumiko's body lay next to him silently. He felt light, and it didn't seem like he had any broken bones. In fact, while he hurt, it wasn't enough to worry about. Getting his energy together and standing up, Nakajima took a deep breath. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, his surroundings became clearer.
And what mysterious surroundings they were! Nakajima found himself standing in a plaza carved out in a niche between towering cliffs. The face of the walls around him were deep crimson. About three meters up in one wall was a dark opening; most likely, it was the shaft that Nakajima had just crawled down. Being underground, there should have been a visible ceiling, but looking up, the walls simply climbed up until the red stones were shrouded in the darkness above. At the end of the plaza, a narrow path stretched out into the bottomless darkness. Was this the pathway to Izanami's burial chamber? Unlike the earlier shaft, this appeared to be a natural underground ravine. The phosphorescent light illuminating it, and the entire underground chamber, appeared to be given off from mossy plants growing on the rock face. Nakajima recalled the scene from the visions he had of being chased by the rotting woman.
A viscous drop of water fell onto Nakajima's cheek. Listening closely, he could hear the steady sound of a trickle of water coming from high above. Over the aeons, the lime deposits in this trickle had accumulated here and there along the path, forming giant stalagmites. Nakajima touched the rising cliff face to feel it. The surface of the cold stone was wet with condensation. When he scratched it, the rock crumbled away easily, revealing a new layer of red stone below. When recalling that the ancient red paint used in ancient Japanese tombs was mercuric-sulfide based, Nakajima suddenly remembered Craft's words.
When explorers discovered material that was apparently part of a demon's body in a Mayan temple, it evaporated when coming into contact with their mercuric-sulfide based paint. In other words, this tomb was designed specifically to keep demons out. Getting up his courage with this realization, Nakajima picked up Yumiko's body and walked toward the depths of the red valley. However, Nakajima never had that much in the way of stamina in the first place. In less than ten minutes, his legs were exhausted. He would have liked to have Kerberos' help, but he didn't want to put any more stress on the already terribly-injured demon. Besides, one could hardly say this path would be the most appropriate place for him, with the walls literally painted with demon repellent.
Breathing heavily with exhaustion, Nakajima proceeded along the path to the burial chamber, the stone walls towering up into the air alongside him. The sweat dripping off of his forehead into his eyes blurred his vision, and each step took every ounce of effort he had. Nakajima shook his head back and forth to get rid of the built-up perspiration, and when his vision cleared, he noticed a white silhouette in his peripheral vision.
"Who's there!?"
Looking closer, he could tell that there was more than just one silhouette--in fact there were quite a few of them. But none of them displayed any indication of movement, and simply stood or squatted there. Gingerly approaching one, Nakajima could see that it was a bleached mummy, its head tilted to the side and its black eye sockets staring up into space. Whether it was the power of the mercuric sulfide or the cold of the underground chamber, the corpse had been preserved from natural decay. Its chest area had what looked like a deliberately drilled large hole in it. Looking around, it appeared that the dozen or so mummies here were scattered about without any order to them. Judging by their clothing, they appeared to be the bones of people from many different time periods. One wore primitive robes, another appeared to be wearing the eboshi hat of a Kamakura-era samurai, and yet another looked like an Edo-period peasant. Many of them had signs of their bones being crushed by large jaws or having their throats torn out. Few people would come into a place like this by accident; these were most likely grave robbers here to plunder the Kofun tomb. Who was it that did this to them?
All of a sudden, the sound of a bizarre cry assaulted Nakajima's ears.
"YAAH! GLULULU!"
It sounded like the voice was coming from far away, but the unusual reverberations produced from the walls of the burial pathway made it difficult to judge the distance of sounds. Nakajima cast a sidelong glance at the butchered corpses of the mummies. If the grave guardian that mercilessly slaughtered these would-be grave robbers was still patrolling this path to the burial chamber now...
As Nakajima shuddered, that very same guardian lept out in front of his eyes from the shadow of a great rock.
"Yomotsu-Shikome!" Nakajima cried.
The fierce image of the monster woman from his vision was burned into Nakajima's memory. But the Yomotsu-Shikome standing before him was far more grotesque in real life than he had imagined. She was almost exactly twice his height. Her purple-flecked squat legs glistened white with slime, and bloated lower stomach of the torso held up by them stuck out like that of a pregnant woman. The robe she wore seemed almost comical it was so small, and it did not even extend down far enough to cover her breasts, which drooped all the way down to her navel. Her webbed hands shuddered, thick with blubber. Her face was almost exactly that of a green frog, and as she exhaled, two gill-like slits on the side of her throat expanded, exposing the pink fleshy walls within. Her long, shimmering black hair made her look only all the more disgusting.
Yomotsu-Shikome took a step forward. As Nakajima met her gaze, he carefully laid Yumiko down, wiped the cold sweat off his hands onto his slacks, and picked up his handheld computer.
"Kerberos, please come here."
Before the white haze that came out of the liquid crystal display could even take on the shape of a rough outline, it vanished with a weak bark. Apparently the crimson paint of this pathway really did seal off the power of the demon beast.
Yomotsu-Shikome thrust her webbed hands down at the petrified Nakajima's shoulders. Leaping to the side at the last minute, Nakajima slipped and fell on the ground. He desperately tried to get up, but the large hands had already grabbed onto him. Yomotsu-Shikome's long tongue licked the area around her huge mouth, and her rancid breath assaulted Nakajima's senses.
"Izanami, are you going to abandon me after I've come all this way!?" Nakajima instinctively cried out.
For some reason, the instant that the monster woman heard Nakajima's cry, she started acting strangely. Her mouth agape, she looked at Nakajima with a blank expression, all hostility gone completely. Her eyes looked around the area, then fixated on the body of Yumiko, laying on the side of the path. An expression of awe came over her face.
"Izanami..."
Her throat jiggling, Yomotsu-Shikome spoke the name reverently. Putting Nakajima back on the ground, the monster woman clumsily waddled over to Yumiko, and carefully picked her up as if handling a fragile broken object.
"Hey, wait, what are you going to do with Yumiko!?"
Taking a disapproving glance at Nakajima, Yomotsu-Shikome cocked her head as if to signal him to follow her, and proceeded down the burial pathway, holding Yumiko.
The cave sloped down gently, seemingly continuing on forever. Stiffening his limbs, Nakajima slowly held his balance, climbing backwards. As the sounds of his labored breathing echoed off the smooth walls of the shaft, the entrance far above him started to vanish in the distance. The reverberations made it almost sound as if Yumiko, strapped to Nakajima's back, was breathing, and several times Nakajima stopped and strained his ears.
But the shoulders of the corpse were as slumped over as usual, and stopping, Nakajima only detected the stench of death.
His sense of the passage of time was long gone. The tunnel was so long that he almost thought that it continued all the way to the center of the earth. Nakajima's arms and legs felt strained with the effort of supporting the weight of two bodies, and if he let his concentration slip for even a moment he felt that he would lose his grip and slide all the way down. Twisting his body, Nakajima pulled off his shoes and socks and continued downwards in bare feet. This way he could be more sure of his footholds. Had he been here by himself, he might have been able to slide all the way down the shaft. But if Yumiko's body was damaged, all his effort would have been for nothing.
All of a sudden, Nakajima found his feet in thin air.
"Agh!"
Desperately extending his arms foward and clawing at the air, a sense of loss, terror, and despair shot through Nakajima's body. An instant later. Nakajima was painfully slammed against a hard stone surface. He had fallen straight down about two or three meters. Unconsciously moving to protect Yumiko's body, Nakajima's shoulders and back took more of the shock than they should have, and unable to stand, he lost consciousness.
There was a faint light and a calm breeze. The cold caressing his cheek, Nakajima opened his heavy eyelids. A little ways away, Yumiko's body lay next to him silently. He felt light, and it didn't seem like he had any broken bones. In fact, while he hurt, it wasn't enough to worry about. Getting his energy together and standing up, Nakajima took a deep breath. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, his surroundings became clearer.
And what mysterious surroundings they were! Nakajima found himself standing in a plaza carved out in a niche between towering cliffs. The face of the walls around him were deep crimson. About three meters up in one wall was a dark opening; most likely, it was the shaft that Nakajima had just crawled down. Being underground, there should have been a visible ceiling, but looking up, the walls simply climbed up until the red stones were shrouded in the darkness above. At the end of the plaza, a narrow path stretched out into the bottomless darkness. Was this the pathway to Izanami's burial chamber? Unlike the earlier shaft, this appeared to be a natural underground ravine. The phosphorescent light illuminating it, and the entire underground chamber, appeared to be given off from mossy plants growing on the rock face. Nakajima recalled the scene from the visions he had of being chased by the rotting woman.
A viscous drop of water fell onto Nakajima's cheek. Listening closely, he could hear the steady sound of a trickle of water coming from high above. Over the aeons, the lime deposits in this trickle had accumulated here and there along the path, forming giant stalagmites. Nakajima touched the rising cliff face to feel it. The surface of the cold stone was wet with condensation. When he scratched it, the rock crumbled away easily, revealing a new layer of red stone below. When recalling that the ancient red paint used in ancient Japanese tombs was mercuric-sulfide based, Nakajima suddenly remembered Craft's words.
When explorers discovered material that was apparently part of a demon's body in a Mayan temple, it evaporated when coming into contact with their mercuric-sulfide based paint. In other words, this tomb was designed specifically to keep demons out. Getting up his courage with this realization, Nakajima picked up Yumiko's body and walked toward the depths of the red valley. However, Nakajima never had that much in the way of stamina in the first place. In less than ten minutes, his legs were exhausted. He would have liked to have Kerberos' help, but he didn't want to put any more stress on the already terribly-injured demon. Besides, one could hardly say this path would be the most appropriate place for him, with the walls literally painted with demon repellent.
Breathing heavily with exhaustion, Nakajima proceeded along the path to the burial chamber, the stone walls towering up into the air alongside him. The sweat dripping off of his forehead into his eyes blurred his vision, and each step took every ounce of effort he had. Nakajima shook his head back and forth to get rid of the built-up perspiration, and when his vision cleared, he noticed a white silhouette in his peripheral vision.
"Who's there!?"
Looking closer, he could tell that there was more than just one silhouette--in fact there were quite a few of them. But none of them displayed any indication of movement, and simply stood or squatted there. Gingerly approaching one, Nakajima could see that it was a bleached mummy, its head tilted to the side and its black eye sockets staring up into space. Whether it was the power of the mercuric sulfide or the cold of the underground chamber, the corpse had been preserved from natural decay. Its chest area had what looked like a deliberately drilled large hole in it. Looking around, it appeared that the dozen or so mummies here were scattered about without any order to them. Judging by their clothing, they appeared to be the bones of people from many different time periods. One wore primitive robes, another appeared to be wearing the eboshi hat of a Kamakura-era samurai, and yet another looked like an Edo-period peasant. Many of them had signs of their bones being crushed by large jaws or having their throats torn out. Few people would come into a place like this by accident; these were most likely grave robbers here to plunder the Kofun tomb. Who was it that did this to them?
All of a sudden, the sound of a bizarre cry assaulted Nakajima's ears.
"YAAH! GLULULU!"
It sounded like the voice was coming from far away, but the unusual reverberations produced from the walls of the burial pathway made it difficult to judge the distance of sounds. Nakajima cast a sidelong glance at the butchered corpses of the mummies. If the grave guardian that mercilessly slaughtered these would-be grave robbers was still patrolling this path to the burial chamber now...
As Nakajima shuddered, that very same guardian lept out in front of his eyes from the shadow of a great rock.
"Yomotsu-Shikome!" Nakajima cried.
The fierce image of the monster woman from his vision was burned into Nakajima's memory. But the Yomotsu-Shikome standing before him was far more grotesque in real life than he had imagined. She was almost exactly twice his height. Her purple-flecked squat legs glistened white with slime, and bloated lower stomach of the torso held up by them stuck out like that of a pregnant woman. The robe she wore seemed almost comical it was so small, and it did not even extend down far enough to cover her breasts, which drooped all the way down to her navel. Her webbed hands shuddered, thick with blubber. Her face was almost exactly that of a green frog, and as she exhaled, two gill-like slits on the side of her throat expanded, exposing the pink fleshy walls within. Her long, shimmering black hair made her look only all the more disgusting.
Yomotsu-Shikome took a step forward. As Nakajima met her gaze, he carefully laid Yumiko down, wiped the cold sweat off his hands onto his slacks, and picked up his handheld computer.
"Kerberos, please come here."
Before the white haze that came out of the liquid crystal display could even take on the shape of a rough outline, it vanished with a weak bark. Apparently the crimson paint of this pathway really did seal off the power of the demon beast.
Yomotsu-Shikome thrust her webbed hands down at the petrified Nakajima's shoulders. Leaping to the side at the last minute, Nakajima slipped and fell on the ground. He desperately tried to get up, but the large hands had already grabbed onto him. Yomotsu-Shikome's long tongue licked the area around her huge mouth, and her rancid breath assaulted Nakajima's senses.
"Izanami, are you going to abandon me after I've come all this way!?" Nakajima instinctively cried out.
For some reason, the instant that the monster woman heard Nakajima's cry, she started acting strangely. Her mouth agape, she looked at Nakajima with a blank expression, all hostility gone completely. Her eyes looked around the area, then fixated on the body of Yumiko, laying on the side of the path. An expression of awe came over her face.
"Izanami..."
Her throat jiggling, Yomotsu-Shikome spoke the name reverently. Putting Nakajima back on the ground, the monster woman clumsily waddled over to Yumiko, and carefully picked her up as if handling a fragile broken object.
"Hey, wait, what are you going to do with Yumiko!?"
Taking a disapproving glance at Nakajima, Yomotsu-Shikome cocked her head as if to signal him to follow her, and proceeded down the burial pathway, holding Yumiko.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Part 4: Chapter 6
Meanwhile, Loki had left the Fourth Kangyo Bank and was standing at the summit of Tonomine, where he could look out over the whole of Asuka. Below him lay the groups of Asuka megaliths. The drizzle falling on his face, Loki opened his mouth. His throat expanded bizarreley and his tongue started vibrating. The extremely high-frequency pitch of his voice was inaudible to human ears, but as if drawn in by the sound, countless black dots the size of rice grains cut through the rain on a beeline toward him. It was a swarm of flies under Loki's command. Brushing his face with their hairy legs, they flew into his ear canals and each whispered something to him.
After hearing all the information he needed, Lokie ordered the flies "OK, Go!" and they returned to their posts. Rubbing the wound on his forehead, Loki stared at Shirasagi Mound.
Nakajima...what do you intend to do, going in there....?
He knew that Nakajima did not escape to Asuka on his own power. Nor was it Yumiko's power that brought them there either. A human woman would never have the power to wound a demon. Most likely a Japanese god or demon had possessed her, and summoned them here to Asuka. And it would be safe to assume that it was quite a powerful one at that.
"I don't care who you are, but I won't let you get away with this. I'll crush you to a pulp!" Loki murmured, charging down the slope toward Shirasagi Mound.
After hearing all the information he needed, Lokie ordered the flies "OK, Go!" and they returned to their posts. Rubbing the wound on his forehead, Loki stared at Shirasagi Mound.
Nakajima...what do you intend to do, going in there....?
He knew that Nakajima did not escape to Asuka on his own power. Nor was it Yumiko's power that brought them there either. A human woman would never have the power to wound a demon. Most likely a Japanese god or demon had possessed her, and summoned them here to Asuka. And it would be safe to assume that it was quite a powerful one at that.
"I don't care who you are, but I won't let you get away with this. I'll crush you to a pulp!" Loki murmured, charging down the slope toward Shirasagi Mound.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Part 4: Chapter 5
After returning Kerberos to the demon world, Nakajima hoisted Yumiko on his back and arrived at the stone burial chamber of Shirasagi Mound. However, after peering into the small room through the the Kumazasa overgrowth, he could not hold back an expression of disappointment. The burial chamber was dug vertically into the ground and was just waiting for him to come in through an opening about 90 centimeters wide and tall. But the walls of chamber itself were only a few meters long at most. It was just tall enough for Nakajima to stand in if he hunched over. It seemed awfully small for the entryway for such a huge Kofun tomb. Was Izanami really here?
Don't panic, this sort of burial chambers must have some sort of trick or secret passage, or something! Trying to reassure himself, Nakajima lowered himself into the chamber.
The room was stagnant with cold air, and the basalt walls glistened, damp with humidity. Nakajima gently lowered Yumiko off his back and onto the ground. A frog that had been watching this strange intruder from one of the corners of the chamber croaked and jumped forward in surprise. Sitting down on the stone floor, Nakajima entered a trance and tried to make a connection with Izanami. But he had very little experience doing this sort of thing; maybe it was because of his anxiety, but the picture in his mind's eye was unchanging, and the only thing that happened as he sat on the ground was the passage of time. Nakajima furrowed his brow in frustration.
"I can't feel anything, even though I must be much closer to Izanami than I was before. Izanami, answer me--how can I find you?"
As if in response to his whispered question, the entire burial chamber started shuddering. The stones in the walls started to groan, and a bit of dirt fell from the ceiling. Coughing, Nakajima unconsciously pulled Yumiko's corpse closer to him.
"Izanami, answer me, so I can revive Yumiko!" Like he was chanting a spell, Nakajima murmured the same words over and over.
Soon the earthquake subsided, and as if trying to ask something, the frog's croaking became louder. As Nakajima turned and looked in its direction, his eyes glimmered with excitement at what he saw. The earthquake had created a gap between the stones in the wall, such that crimson paint on their edges became clearly visible. Approaching the divide between the flagstones, Nakajima could feel cold air flowing forth from the reddish crack. Twisting his fingers into the gap, Nakajima dislodged the stones one by one, revealing a crawlspace beyond large enough for a person to enter. The crawlspace sloped slightly downward, proceeding deep into the earth.
The pit was shrouded in darkness, but for Nakajima there was no hesitation. Tearing his shirt and using the strips to tie Yumiko and his handheld computer to his body, Nakajima got down on his stomach and put his feet into the hole. A cold, smooth feeling like marble under his palms gave lie to the fact that the structure was man-made. Hunkered down on all fours so that he would not slip, Nakajima started carefully climbing down the shaft, backwards into the inky blackness below.
Don't panic, this sort of burial chambers must have some sort of trick or secret passage, or something! Trying to reassure himself, Nakajima lowered himself into the chamber.
The room was stagnant with cold air, and the basalt walls glistened, damp with humidity. Nakajima gently lowered Yumiko off his back and onto the ground. A frog that had been watching this strange intruder from one of the corners of the chamber croaked and jumped forward in surprise. Sitting down on the stone floor, Nakajima entered a trance and tried to make a connection with Izanami. But he had very little experience doing this sort of thing; maybe it was because of his anxiety, but the picture in his mind's eye was unchanging, and the only thing that happened as he sat on the ground was the passage of time. Nakajima furrowed his brow in frustration.
"I can't feel anything, even though I must be much closer to Izanami than I was before. Izanami, answer me--how can I find you?"
As if in response to his whispered question, the entire burial chamber started shuddering. The stones in the walls started to groan, and a bit of dirt fell from the ceiling. Coughing, Nakajima unconsciously pulled Yumiko's corpse closer to him.
"Izanami, answer me, so I can revive Yumiko!" Like he was chanting a spell, Nakajima murmured the same words over and over.
Soon the earthquake subsided, and as if trying to ask something, the frog's croaking became louder. As Nakajima turned and looked in its direction, his eyes glimmered with excitement at what he saw. The earthquake had created a gap between the stones in the wall, such that crimson paint on their edges became clearly visible. Approaching the divide between the flagstones, Nakajima could feel cold air flowing forth from the reddish crack. Twisting his fingers into the gap, Nakajima dislodged the stones one by one, revealing a crawlspace beyond large enough for a person to enter. The crawlspace sloped slightly downward, proceeding deep into the earth.
The pit was shrouded in darkness, but for Nakajima there was no hesitation. Tearing his shirt and using the strips to tie Yumiko and his handheld computer to his body, Nakajima got down on his stomach and put his feet into the hole. A cold, smooth feeling like marble under his palms gave lie to the fact that the structure was man-made. Hunkered down on all fours so that he would not slip, Nakajima started carefully climbing down the shaft, backwards into the inky blackness below.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Part 4: Chapter 4
At about the same time, in the branch office of Fourth Kangyo Bank in Inai, four female employees were in the operations room, entering data in the host computer to write a patch to send the day's transfers to other bank branches. None of the four were looking down at their keyboards; their glances only turned back and forth from their displays to the numbers on the display vouchers they had been working with.
"Why is my terminal always the one to break!?" One of the workers irritatedly got up from her seat.
Her name was Mida Yoshie. She had been working at the bank for two years and was brilliant but somewhat short-tempered, her bob-cut appearance appropriately complimenting her energetic personality. Yoshie looked closely at the other workers' terminals, but it appeared that she was the only one experiencing the problem. Her screen was completely dark, and didn't respond to any keyboard input at all.
"Isn't that what normally happens when you send data to the host computer?" Shimamura Yuko--whose appearance and personality were the polar opposite of Yoshie's--looked over at her while continuing to enter data into her own terminal.
Yuko had been at the company a year longer than Yoshie and thus was slightly higher on the chain of command.
"Is it just mine then? Oh well, I might as well go make some tea." As Yoshie left the room discontentedly, a blue haze started to seep from the display behind her. A pungent musky smell started to waft throughout the room, but engrossed in their work, nobody seemed to notice it. The blue haze started to coagulate and take form behind the chair that Yoshie had previously been sitting in.
As if she was tired from all the data entry, Yuko thrust her arms toward the ceiling and stretched. A strange jelly-like substance grabbed onto her white throat.
"Yoshie, cut it out."
Yawning and turning around, Yuko found herself staring into the bronze face of Loki, his head atop a bizarre pillar of gelatinous flesh. She tried to scream but found that her vocal chords were frozen and she could not make a sound. The demon's tentacle constricted and crushed Yuko's skull with a lound crunch. From the neck up Yuko was nothing more than a grotesque lump of disfigured flesh, yet her hands continued to tap on the keys of the terminal out of sheer inertia. While the other two women sat paralyzed with fear, other tentacles grabbed them and pulled them inside the demon's body.
Behind Loki, there was a sound of porcelain shattering. Yoshie had returned with tea and dropped her tray at the sight of the unbelievable bloodbath she had walked into. Loki's tentacle stretched out to her stomach. Heat shot through her chest along with a sticky sensation, and the next instant, blinding pain shot through her as fresh blood spurted out of her rent skin.
"What's going on!?" Hearing the strange sound within the room, a male employee carrying a load of bills to the safe opened the door. Loki mercilessly threw Yoshie's now-decapitated head at his chest with incredible force.
"Agh!"
Knocked hard against the wall, the man just barely managed to search for the emergency alarm and press it with all his remaining strength before passing out.
The shrill sound of the alarm echoed throughout the building. In the midst of the clamor, Loki calmly completed the transformation into his bronze human form, and turned his pitch-black eyes toward Asuka.
"Why is my terminal always the one to break!?" One of the workers irritatedly got up from her seat.
Her name was Mida Yoshie. She had been working at the bank for two years and was brilliant but somewhat short-tempered, her bob-cut appearance appropriately complimenting her energetic personality. Yoshie looked closely at the other workers' terminals, but it appeared that she was the only one experiencing the problem. Her screen was completely dark, and didn't respond to any keyboard input at all.
"Isn't that what normally happens when you send data to the host computer?" Shimamura Yuko--whose appearance and personality were the polar opposite of Yoshie's--looked over at her while continuing to enter data into her own terminal.
Yuko had been at the company a year longer than Yoshie and thus was slightly higher on the chain of command.
"Is it just mine then? Oh well, I might as well go make some tea." As Yoshie left the room discontentedly, a blue haze started to seep from the display behind her. A pungent musky smell started to waft throughout the room, but engrossed in their work, nobody seemed to notice it. The blue haze started to coagulate and take form behind the chair that Yoshie had previously been sitting in.
As if she was tired from all the data entry, Yuko thrust her arms toward the ceiling and stretched. A strange jelly-like substance grabbed onto her white throat.
"Yoshie, cut it out."
Yawning and turning around, Yuko found herself staring into the bronze face of Loki, his head atop a bizarre pillar of gelatinous flesh. She tried to scream but found that her vocal chords were frozen and she could not make a sound. The demon's tentacle constricted and crushed Yuko's skull with a lound crunch. From the neck up Yuko was nothing more than a grotesque lump of disfigured flesh, yet her hands continued to tap on the keys of the terminal out of sheer inertia. While the other two women sat paralyzed with fear, other tentacles grabbed them and pulled them inside the demon's body.
Behind Loki, there was a sound of porcelain shattering. Yoshie had returned with tea and dropped her tray at the sight of the unbelievable bloodbath she had walked into. Loki's tentacle stretched out to her stomach. Heat shot through her chest along with a sticky sensation, and the next instant, blinding pain shot through her as fresh blood spurted out of her rent skin.
"What's going on!?" Hearing the strange sound within the room, a male employee carrying a load of bills to the safe opened the door. Loki mercilessly threw Yoshie's now-decapitated head at his chest with incredible force.
"Agh!"
Knocked hard against the wall, the man just barely managed to search for the emergency alarm and press it with all his remaining strength before passing out.
The shrill sound of the alarm echoed throughout the building. In the midst of the clamor, Loki calmly completed the transformation into his bronze human form, and turned his pitch-black eyes toward Asuka.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Part 4: Chapter 3
Sinking their sneakers into the gravel of the path, the hikers in Asuka hurried along the trail. The faces of all the nearby tourists displayed irritation at the unwelcome arrival of rain. Kerberos shot through the hills at high speed, Nakajima tightly gripping the corpse of Yumiko on his back. But the extremely abnormal sight didn't seem to phase the hikers.
"What was that just now?"
"They must be shooting a movie here, I guess."
The relaxed voices grew faint behind Nakajima. Presently Nakajima arrived at the hills he had seen in his vision. Nakajima did not know that this 200-meter tall hill was a Kofun tomb known as "Shirasagi Mound." Shirasagi mound was huge for a Kofun tomb, and was deeply shrouded in mystery. It was unknown whether or not it was a zenpokoen-fun "keyhole"-style tomb or just one that took advantage of a natural hill, let alone who was buried there or when it was built. However, it had been passed down in oral tradition that a woman had been buried here, and some of those who had studied the treatise "Gishi-Wajin-den" argued that it was the grave of Himiko, the ancient queen of Yamato. In the modern day, fully half of Shirasagi Mound had been cultivated into fields, and of the original burial mound, only a single stone chamber remained, along with a few Kumazasa shrubs and pine woods.
As Kerberos climbed the hill, his movement became visibly slower, and the spasms of his rough breathing could be felt on his back. As soon what appeared to be the entrance to the stone burial chamber appeared, Kerberos finally came to a stop. Nakajima dropped to the ground, leaving Yumiko on the back of the demon beast. And as if his strained nerves had finally reached their breaking point, as Kerberos' front legs bent, he collapsed to the ground. Perhaps his wounds from the battle with Loki had worsened, or perhaps Shirasagi Mound itself caused pain to the animal, but either way, as if he could no longer take another step, Kerberos stuck his tongue out and started panting, while letting out a low whine. The flicker of fire in his eyes was gone.
"You did good, Kerberos. You can go on back."
Nakajima had no choice but to return the digital beast to his handheld computer.
"What was that just now?"
"They must be shooting a movie here, I guess."
The relaxed voices grew faint behind Nakajima. Presently Nakajima arrived at the hills he had seen in his vision. Nakajima did not know that this 200-meter tall hill was a Kofun tomb known as "Shirasagi Mound." Shirasagi mound was huge for a Kofun tomb, and was deeply shrouded in mystery. It was unknown whether or not it was a zenpokoen-fun "keyhole"-style tomb or just one that took advantage of a natural hill, let alone who was buried there or when it was built. However, it had been passed down in oral tradition that a woman had been buried here, and some of those who had studied the treatise "Gishi-Wajin-den" argued that it was the grave of Himiko, the ancient queen of Yamato. In the modern day, fully half of Shirasagi Mound had been cultivated into fields, and of the original burial mound, only a single stone chamber remained, along with a few Kumazasa shrubs and pine woods.
As Kerberos climbed the hill, his movement became visibly slower, and the spasms of his rough breathing could be felt on his back. As soon what appeared to be the entrance to the stone burial chamber appeared, Kerberos finally came to a stop. Nakajima dropped to the ground, leaving Yumiko on the back of the demon beast. And as if his strained nerves had finally reached their breaking point, as Kerberos' front legs bent, he collapsed to the ground. Perhaps his wounds from the battle with Loki had worsened, or perhaps Shirasagi Mound itself caused pain to the animal, but either way, as if he could no longer take another step, Kerberos stuck his tongue out and started panting, while letting out a low whine. The flicker of fire in his eyes was gone.
"You did good, Kerberos. You can go on back."
Nakajima had no choice but to return the digital beast to his handheld computer.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Part 4: Chapter 2
At about that time, in the now-decimated CAI room, Ohara faced the host computer, talking with Loki. Even after being able to take full form, Loki seemed to prefer staying inside the computer in a digital form--it was most likely less of a physical burden.
"Damned Nakajima; he fled all the way to Asuka."
"What should I do? Should I send my students after them, or do you have another idea?"
"No, I'll go myself." Loki's voice was full of resolve. He fully realized that the revolutionary technology of summoning demons with a computers was on par with nuclear weapon technology. If only he could master the transfer of the data that Nakajima had developed, conquering the human world would be more than just a far-fetched dream.
But the same thing could be said of other demons. In order to prevent the technology from getting into the hands of other demons and thus ensure his absolute superiority in the Assiah world, Loki could not let Nakajima live.
Loki had servants that could be called spies--flies. Flies were one of the few creatures that could freely travel between the Assiah and Aztiluth worlds, and Loki had the ability to not only talk with all flies, but to sense everything they experienced on the surface as if he was there himself.
And from them, Loki had learned that Nakajima had appeared in Asuka.
"Well then..." Ohara entered a command into the computer.
Maybe it was just part of Nakajima's database, but displayed onscreen were the numbers for City Banks in the Kinki region. Ohara scrolled the screen and pulled up a map of Japan, referencing it with the phone numbers.
"I think that Fourth Kangyo Bank in Inai would be best."
"OK. Then send me there."
As the magnetic tape started spinning furiously, the screen became awash in brilliant colors. Setting the modem, Ohara pressed each button of Fourth Kangyo Bank's phone number carefully, as if not to make any mistakes.
"Damned Nakajima; he fled all the way to Asuka."
"What should I do? Should I send my students after them, or do you have another idea?"
"No, I'll go myself." Loki's voice was full of resolve. He fully realized that the revolutionary technology of summoning demons with a computers was on par with nuclear weapon technology. If only he could master the transfer of the data that Nakajima had developed, conquering the human world would be more than just a far-fetched dream.
But the same thing could be said of other demons. In order to prevent the technology from getting into the hands of other demons and thus ensure his absolute superiority in the Assiah world, Loki could not let Nakajima live.
Loki had servants that could be called spies--flies. Flies were one of the few creatures that could freely travel between the Assiah and Aztiluth worlds, and Loki had the ability to not only talk with all flies, but to sense everything they experienced on the surface as if he was there himself.
And from them, Loki had learned that Nakajima had appeared in Asuka.
"Well then..." Ohara entered a command into the computer.
Maybe it was just part of Nakajima's database, but displayed onscreen were the numbers for City Banks in the Kinki region. Ohara scrolled the screen and pulled up a map of Japan, referencing it with the phone numbers.
"I think that Fourth Kangyo Bank in Inai would be best."
"OK. Then send me there."
As the magnetic tape started spinning furiously, the screen became awash in brilliant colors. Setting the modem, Ohara pressed each button of Fourth Kangyo Bank's phone number carefully, as if not to make any mistakes.
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