As Kazuo opened his eyes that morning, a strange feeling crept over him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that something was amiss. The air in his room felt heavy and still, and the sunlight filtering through the curtains seemed muted and dull. Kazuo sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and trying to shake off the sense of unease that had settled over him.
He couldn't explain it, but he knew that this was going to be a day unlike any other. As he slowly opened his eyes, he realised that he was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were painted a dull shade of beige, and the only source of light was a small window on the far side of the room. He tried to sit up, but his body felt strange and foreign to him. It was as if he was wearing someone else's skin. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were larger and rougher than he remembered. Panic began to set in as he struggled to remember how he had ended up in this unfamiliar place and in this unfamiliar body. He awoke to a pounding headache and a sense of disorientation.
As he struggled to piece together the events of the previous night, he was met with a frustrating blankness. He could recall laughing and the sound of his own voice echoing through the room, but then...nothing. It was as if a thick fog had descended upon his memory, obscuring any further recollection of the night's events. He couldn't shake the feeling that something important had happened—something he needed to remember. But for now, he had absolutely no recollection whatsoever of what had taken place. As he opened his eyes once aagain, he felt a strange sensation coursing through his veins. It was as if he had been transported to another realm and another body.
But as he looked around, he realised that he was, in fact, in someone else's body. And not just anyone's body, but someone he knew all too well.
It was a surreal experience, to say the least. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that he was now inhabiting the physical vessel of another human being. It was disorienting, to say the least. But he knew that he had to keep his wits about him if he was going to make it through this bizarre ordeal. It was none other than Suziki Satoru, guild leader of the great tomb of Nazarick, who awaited him when he opened his eyes. More widely, he is known as the feared Momonga.
He arose with a start, his eyes darting around the dimly lit room. He tried to move, to rise from his bed, and to search for the source of his unease, but his body refused to cooperate. He was paralysed, trapped in his own flesh. Panic set in as he struggled against his own limbs, desperate to break free from the invisible restraints that held him captive. He stood frozen, unable to comprehend the reason behind his trembling hands and quivering body. It was as if an invisible force had taken over him, causing him to lose control of his own physical being.
He tried to steady himself, but the shaking only intensified, leaving him feeling helpless and vulnerable. What was happening to him? The answer eluded him, and he was left to grapple with the mysterious and unsettling sensation that had taken hold of him. He was lying there, wrapped tightly in his blanket, his heart racing with anxiety. The mere thought of exposing himself to the world beyond his cocoon of warmth filled him with dread. He knew he couldn't stay hidden forever, but the fear of what lay beyond was almost too much to bear.
Slowly, he mustered the courage to peel back the layers of fabric, his hands shaking with trepidation. As the blanket slipped away, he felt a rush of cold air wash over him, sending shivers down his spine. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what lay ahead. He stood there, bewildered and confused, as he tried to make sense of the situation. The events unfolding before him were inexplicable, leaving him with no clue as to why they were happening. His mind raced as he searched for an explanation, but none came to him. He was left with a sense of helplessness, unable to understand the forces at play. He struggled with all his might to break free from the grip of fear that had taken hold of him. But no matter how hard he pushed himself, he remained rooted to the spot, unable to move even an inch. The minutes ticked by, slowly turning into hours, as he remained trapped in his own terror.
Kazuo sat on the edge of his bed, tears streaming down his face. The pain in his head was unbearable, throbbing with a ferocity that made him feel as though his skull might split open at any moment. He had been suffering for what felt like hours, but in reality, it had only been one. Despite his attempts to calm himself, the tears continued to flow, a testament to the agony he was experiencing. He couldn't help but wonder if this was it—if this was how he was going to die—alone, in his bedroom, consumed by a headache that refused to relent. He had been plagued by a throbbing headache for what felt like an eternity. It was so intense that he often found himself losing consciousness. But finally, after what seemed like an endless struggle, the pain subsided. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to be free from the agony that had consumed him for so long. As the throbbing pain in his head subsided, he became aware of a new sensation. It was as if a door had been opened, granting him access to someone else's thoughts. He knew, without a doubt, that the information he was receiving was coming from Suzuki's mind. The details regarding this newly discovered reality as well as his new world
Originally, it was stated that Suzuki was in his mid-thirties, but when he acquired the facts from his knowledge, the fact was confirmed: Suzuki was in fact 33 years old, but he himself was 23 years old. "So, I'm either 23 years old, 33 years old, or 56 years old right now?" Kazuo's lips curled up into a small smile, and a soft chuckle escaped his throat. Despite the lingering uncertainty, the mere act of posing the question had a curious effect on him. The trembling fear that had been coursing through his veins seemed to dissipate, if only for a moment. Yet the answer remained elusive, leaving him to ponder the possibilities and implications of what might lie ahead.
This time, he was able to get out of bed without assistance, but as soon as he stood up, he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Kazuo's eyes fluttered open, and the scene in front of him immediately struck him. It was as if he had been transported to a realm of pure horror. The ground beneath his feet was slick with blood, and he could feel it squelching between his toes. Above him, the sky was a deep, angry red, and the air was thick with black clouds that seemed to writhe and twist like living things. Despite the darkness, the place was strangely illuminated, and Kazuo could see his own reflection in the blood-soaked ground. He shuddered at the sight of himself, his face twisted in fear and confusion. Where was he? How had he ended up in this place of nightmares? As he stood there, trying to make sense of his surroundings, Kazuo couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread. Whatever this place was, it was not meant for the living.
Kazuo let out an "Ahhhh!" scream since it was the only thing he could do, but the next instant he started running while saying, "This must be a dream, right?" As he sprinted through the darkened paths, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. Perhaps it was the way the spaces seemed to warp and twist around him, or the way the air felt thick and heavy against his skin. But no matter how hard he tried to shake off the sensation, it clung to him like a second skin. As he rounded yet another corner, he stumbled and nearly fell, his heart pounding in his chest.
Maybe, he thought, just maybe, he was trapped in a lucid dream. It would explain the surreal landscape around him—the way everything seemed to be both real and unreal at the same time. But if he was dreaming, how could he wake himself up? He had heard stories of people who had been trapped in their own dreams, unable to escape until they died. The thought made his blood run cold. So he kept running, his feet pounding against the pavement as he searched for a way out. But no matter how far he went, he couldn't seem to shake the dreamlike world around him. It was as if he were caught in a never-ending nightmare with no escape in sight.
Kazuo's heart pounded in his chest as he ran through the dream world, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He knew that exhaustion was impossible in a dream, but the fear that gripped him was all too real. Still, he pushed himself to keep going, to find some way out of this surreal nightmare. And then, as if in answer to his desperate pleas, he saw it: an exit. Relief flooded through him, but it was short-lived as he realised that this was no ordinary escape route. The door before him was twisted and distorted, its edges jagged and uneven. Kazuo hesitated, unsure if he should take this path, but the thought of staying in this dream any longer was too much to bear. With a deep breath, he stepped through the warped doorway, and everything went black.
Kazuo approached the gate with trepidation, its pure black surface emanating a dangerous aura that made him hesitate. But he knew he had no other choice. With a deep breath, he began to walk towards it, his steps slow and steady as he braced himself for what lay beyond. Kazuo's heart pounded in his chest as he took each step forward, his feet sinking into the soft earth with varying degrees of pressure. He knew that every step brought him closer to his destination, but the weight of his mission felt heavier with each passing moment. As he placed his twelfth step, Kazuo caught a glimpse of his reflection. His face was etched with determination, but something about his reflection seemed different. He paused, studying the image before him. He had before noticed the striking resemblance between his own reflection and that of Suzuki's. However, something was different this time. The once identical image staring back at him now seemed altered in some way.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was a subtle shift in the features that made it distinct from before. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a new aspect of himself that he had never noticed before. As he walked along the water's edge, the reflection that had once been crystal clear began to distort. It darkened and blurred with each step he took, until it was almost unrecognisable. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he watched the once-beautiful image fade away. It was as if the world around him was shifting and changing, becoming something unfamiliar and unknown. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was not quite right—that he was walking into a world that was not his own. But still, he pressed on, driven by a sense of curiosity and a desire to uncover the truth behind the strange phenomenon.
Kazuo's heart pounded in his chest as he ascended the path, each step feeling heavier than the last. He had been climbing for what felt like hours; his determination to reach the gate at the top was the only thing keeping him going. But as he reached the 30th step, something strange happened. His reflection in the polished marble of the stairwell wall began to blur and distort, taking on features that Kazuo didn't recognise. Fear gripped him tightly, but he knew he couldn't turn back now. He had come too far to give up. With only 10 steps left to go, he pushed himself onward, his eyes fixed on the gate looming ahead.
As Kazuo took the final step, a voice pierced through the silence. "Are you sure?" it asked. The words echoed in his mind, causing him to pause and look around. Who had spoken? Was he really sure about what he was doing? Doubt crept into his thoughts as he tried to shake off the feeling of uncertainty. But the voice lingered, haunting him with its ominous tone. Kazuo took a deep breath and continued forward, hoping that his decision was the right one.
Kazuo's heart raced as he heard a sound coming from the other side of the room. He couldn't see anyone, but he knew someone was there. "Who's there?" he screamed, his voice echoing through the empty space. He cautiously made his way towards the sound, but as he searched for the person, there was no one in sight. The space was vast, with high ceilings and walls that seemed to stretch on forever. Kazuo was alone, except for his own reflection staring back at him from the polished marble floor. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, and he wondered if he was losing his mind.
Kazuo's eyes fell to the ground, and as he gazed at his reflection, he saw something that made him gasp. The mouth of his reflection began to move, as if it were trying to speak. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Was he hallucinating? Or was this some kind of strange magic at work? He leaned in closer, trying to make out what the mouth was saying, but the words were muffled and indistinct. His heart raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening. This was like nothing he had ever experienced before.
Kazuo gazed at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Who, no, what are you?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't believe what he was seeing—the person staring back at him was not the same person he had seen just moments before. It was as if he were looking at a stranger—a completely different entity altogether. His mind raced with questions and confusion as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Kazuo's state of mind was the subject of much debate. Some would label him as mentally ill, but the truth was far more complex.
Kazuo's inner world was a labyrinth of thoughts and emotions that few could comprehend. Was he truly ill, or was he simply wired differently than most? The answer remained elusive, even to those who knew him best.
"I'm sorry," it said, with a voice barely above a whisper. "I can't tell you that." It hesitated, gazing towards the gate.
"But are you sure you want to open it? The gate contains the memories of your former life." It looked at him with a face of sadness. "The one that you wanted to remove, the memories that you once wanted to forget?"
Kazuo's eyes darted back and forth as he took in the question. He remained still, his lips tightly pressed together, as he considered his response. The room was silent, save for the sound of his own breathing. Kazuo stood before the gate, unsure of how to respond. His mind raced as he tried to come up with the right words, but before he could speak, a strange sensation overtook him. It was as if his body was melting away, dissolving into the air around him. He felt weightless, as if he were floating in a dream. Despite the fear that gripped him, Kazuo couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the strange and otherworldly experience. His inner organs and skeletal structure eventually suffered the same fate as the flesh, sinew, and tissue that had started to liquefy earlier. The suddenness of the event left Kazuo no chance to respond.
Kazuo's eyes shot open as he let out a blood-curdling scream. He found himself lying in a room that was all too familiar—it was Suzuki's room. As he tried to gather his bearings, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over him. His heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.