Susanoo-Arashi, the most fearsome of kami, remains shrouded in the silence that befits the Old Gods. An ancient presence, its essence is woven into the fabric of the world, a silent watcher bound by the eternal flow of time.

Susanoo-Arashi, storm incarnate, is a name that is whispered with dread by lesser kami and caution by greater. In the unseen realms where the spirits dwell, it is the shadow that cools the air, a harbinger of the tempest's approach.

Susanoo-Arashi, the most fearsome of kami, wields the tempest's heart and the storm's soul as his dominion. Its command over the elements is unrivaled, its power manifest in the howling winds, the relentless surge of the tides, the endless fall of the frost; the thunder manifest.

Susanoo-Arashi is the Enforcer, the divine adjudicator whose wrath is as boundless as the heavens. It is tasked with the solemn duty to maintain the celestial order by chastising those deities who dare defy the sacred laws. In its wake, the world trembles, and the heavens bow, for its judgment is final, a storm that cleanses and condemns with impartial fury.

Ashina Senkō, Path of the Savant, 9th Ring — "On the Nature of Kami"

TAKAMAGAHARA

In Takamagahara, the inner realm of the Heavenly Abode, where eternity's glow shone clear and time behaved strangely, stood Hoshinomai, an arena of celestial grandeur, resplendent.

The heavy rains did not dampen its beauty. This sacred space, vast and immeasurable, was soon to teem with kami of every conceivable shape and form, here to watch the spectacle. Ethereal beings would glide alongside more tangible forms, the many aspects of the divine.

Among this diverse congregation would be Akaishi-Kawa, a kami of lesser renown. He, as he often described himself, had a subtle presence: as though his powers were embryonic, awaiting their full bloom like a dormant seed under the winter snow.

Or so would humans say.

Akaishi-Kawa knew better, of course. Most kami were timeless, in a sense. Beings that would not age or evolve; they only existed in an unalterable state. Their form and essence would be eternal and unchanging, without the processes of development or degradation. Many of them, it was said, inherently "knew" all that they were capable of knowing, with no distinction between past, present and future thought. Which, he supposed, could be good, or bad.

It just was.

To go against the natural order was a foolish thing, it was said. It didn't stop Akaishi-Kawa from fighting his fate, however. Learning new concepts, he believed, was possible. And he considered himself somewhat of an expert, when it came to kami matters. Perhaps he had been born this way.

Or perhaps he was a deity of change himself, who knew...? Akaishi-Kawa, of course, was not foolish enough to say this sort of joke out loud. Truthfully, his primary talent lay in his keen senses, which surpassed those of most others. Tonight, his senses would bring him the chance to see all there was to see, all there was to hear, all there was to feel.

Soon, Hoshinomai, with its star-strewn floor and nebulous canopies, would resonate with excited murmurs, the whispers of the assembled deities. Here, Akaishi-Kawa would come, not by his own power, but through the grace of another, more potent kami. And as such, he had been granted privilege to witness the confrontation. Like so many of them did. It seemed as though nearly any deity had been invited to witness it.

A mortal and his legions were to face the formidable, Honored Susanoo-Arashi. The privilege to bear witness to this was a gift, eagerly embraced by Akaishi-Kawa.

It would be a brief, succinct show.

And it was the sort of spectacle that no deity dared to miss. He could sense millions of them close, and there were more further away, Akaishi-Kawa knew.

The air hummed with anticipation, and Akaishi-Kawa, small but eager, left his domain to absorb every moment of the impending storm.

In Takamagahara, the lights in the sky were not stars.

From the smallest whispering zephyr to the towering colossi that treaded among the clouds, the kami of Takamagahara embodied the myriad facets of creation.

In the beginning, after a time that was not, five single deities came into existence. The land itself was formless, much like a jellyfish kami. Six more generations of Old Gods came into existence after the first five. The last of the seventh generation were a male and a female pair, a rare thing for kami.

Izanagi-Kaeru! Izanami-Shi!

All of the kami, together, told these two to solidify the land. Raising the spear, droplets fell from the tip and formed solid islands. The two kami left the spear there, along with the newly formed Earth. A heavenly pillar that would grant kami access.

And so it was done.

Izanami-Shi was then said to have departed permanently, although such a notion was nearly heretical, and in her dying throes, she gave birth to many other deities. Thirty-five of them, of which Enma-daiō was one.

From Izanagi-Kaeru, on the other hand, along with Fūjin-Yami and Raijin-Kaminari and many others, came Amaterasu-Yoake, Tsukiyomi-Yoru. And Susanoo-Arashi. The three last were especially blessed, and so were assigned the rule of Heaven, Night, and the Ocean.

Although it bore saying that Susanoo-Arashi was rumored to have been terribly incensed by Izanami-Shi's final departure, and only Izanagi-Kaeru's forceful intervention led to him obeying.

Everything changed later on, when the very same Izanagi-Kaeru disappeared as well, leaving Amaterasu-Yoake to oversee the stability of the Heavenly Plain.

It was then that the first Assembly of the Gods was called. To deal with the events surrounding Izanagi-Kaeru's disappearance, as well as Susanoo-Arashi's tempestuous outrages. Other assemblies were called as eons, in human time, passed. They were called to deal with matters such as the ones surrounding the subjugation of the Central Land of the Reed Plains. They were called to address the unfolding crisis of the Heavenly Winds. They were called to discuss Takemusubi-ō-mikami's disappearance. They were called to speak of the growing tensions between the Old Gods.

None of the Assemblies managed to prevent the War, however.

This failure set the stage for a significant turn of events. In response to the escalating conflict, Izanagi-Kaeru made a temporary return. His sole purpose in doing so, however, was to tighten the bindings on the rebellious Susanoo-Arashi. Making him the sole enforcer of the newly made divine Oath. This decisive action marked a turning point, signaling the approaching end of the War. With his task accomplished, Izanagi-Kaeru once again departed, this time seemingly for good.

Yes, so it was known.

Akaishi-Kawa moved silently among his stronger peers, reminiscing. There were few who knew what he knew. And most of it, he had pieced together over eons, fighting against his very own nature. He sought knowledge, and he had never witnessed Susanoo-Arashi's legendary power for himself before. Beneath the boundless dome of the celestial sky, close to the dry riverbed of the Heavenly River, one could find Hoshinomai. The fabric of the divine realm thinned to welcome the voices of millions of kami, a grand assembly was called into session.

It was not an Assembly that had gathered in Takamagahara.

But perhaps Akaishi-Kawa, like many others, could be forgiven for thinking it was as close as he would ever get to one.

Settled atop a sprawling green hill that existed in multiple iterations, each overlapped upon the other in impossible juxtaposition, under the pitch-black sky, Akaishi-Kawa waited.

Perhaps it was a term that did not have the same meaning to humans than it did to kami. That was, however, the closest, easiest manner of describing what he did as a palpable tension stirred the air. The realm, usually a tranquil haven of divine serenity, now throbbed with an electric anticipation. This, as well as the torrential downpour, could only mean one thing.

Lights tore through the sky before disappearing, their luminous trails etching omens. More and more kami gathered in a place impossible for humans to comprehend. All of them were simultaneously present and absent, boundless in number — a concept that made little sense to the constrained notions of time and space that mortals' waking selves needed to navigate the world the kami had created. But such were humans, born to die, with five feeble senses they used to pretend to make sense of the boundlessly complex cosmos, while other beings with a wider, stronger range of senses saw, heard and felt beyond worlds of matter, energy and life.

Amidst this charged atmosphere sat Akaishi-Kawa, his presence a mere whisper against the backdrop of Takamagahara's grandeur. The air around him was alive with the whispers of countless kami, their forms shimmering in and out of the realm's fabric, drawn by the gravity of the impending confrontation.

Within this gathering of deities, five kami of greater renown stood out to his senses.

Yorishiro-Hibiki, the Bearer of Echoes, guardian of sounds and whispers. He ensured no plea from the mortal realm was ever lost, taking their faith for himself.

Komorebi-Hikari, Guardian of Sunbeams, bathed the area in a softer, golden light.

Suzume-Kyoku, the Melody Bringer. It fluttered close by, its ethereal sparrow form chirping melodies that offered solace to the anxious hearts around its form.

Fuyugeshiki-Kori, Harbinger of Frost. His ice-etched form brought a terrible chill to the air.

Tsuchi—

Akaishi-Kawa suddenly froze. The air was thick with power, and he was unsure how he had nearly missed it.

Unspoken prophecies, illusions.

He had nearly missed the fleeting presence of Inari-Kitsune, a kami revered and whispered about in equal measure.

Inari-Kitsune, the deity of fertility, rice and agriculture, but also of foxes. It was known for its elusive nature. Its gender, if it had one, was yet another thing no one truly seemed to know. Cloaked in the shimmering guise of myriad fox spirits, that kami moved through the assembled gods with a grace that belied its significant influence over both the celestial and mortal realms. Its form, a dazzling interplay of light and shadow, flickered at the edge of Akaishi-Kawa's perception, a testament to its mastery over the realms the other kami protected and nurtured. For a moment, Akaishi-Kawa thought he felt many eyes settle upon him. Almost in a subtle nod. Then they disappeared.

Behind Inari-Kitsune, into an impossibly long, equally short distance, the Heavenly River glowed with ethereal silver light. As though reacting to its presence.

The kami on the field full of light sprites waited, rarely engaging with each other. More of their divine brethren appeared, from the curlish Okaro-Nishii to the frightening Ninigi-Onami. The divine heir himself, and a sight for sore eyes…

Ah. No wonder.

Finally, something faded into the center of the arena. Akaishi-Kawa felt divine power draw away, as though every head bowed, every tongue stilled. Everything dissolved…

There was a storm of power, no, an inferno. Painting the Night in its brilliant colors. Orange and blood red, at first.

The air seemed to fold upon itself, erasing the encompassing void. A sudden, intense heat washed over them all, dispelling the cold Fuyugeshiki-Kori brought, like the sun parting the clouds. Making Komorebi-Hikari's magnificent sunbeams seem like a pale imitation. Casting Yorishiro-Hibiki's echoes, Suzume-Kyoku's melodies into the Heavenly Winds.

Inari-Kitsune, for one, seemed to bristle.

A radiant glow flared, pulsating with an almost blinding fervor. A figure emerged from this brilliance — or rather, it was brilliance incarnate. Majestic and awe-striking, she dwarfed any comprehension of beauty and terror. Commanding and humbling.

Standing with a poise that defied mortal understanding, here was an ethereal figure of cascading light and dancing flame.

Her eyes were twin novas that burned the darkness.

Here was Amaterasu-Yoake, in her full glory—

A divine hand rose, and there was silence.

"Many among you have heeded the call to gather here."

So began Amaterasu-Yoake, her voice resonating across the divine assembly. Her gaze swept over the crowd of kami, a spark of celestial amusement in her eyes.

"It appears the humans have issued a challenge." She remarked, the hint of a smile playing at the edge of her words. "Daring to confront Susanoo-Arashi in… combat."

Laughter echoed through the ranks of the kami.

"A contest." She continued, her tone laced with a touch of disdain. "One that both Susanoo-Arashi and I have consented to oversee."

Her voice, while composed, betrayed no warmth for Susanoo-Arashi, emphasizing the distance between the divine siblings. And...

"Indeed. It is as some of you might have noticed." Amaterasu-Yoake declared, a hint of true disdain coloring her words, in spite of her amusement. "It seems our challengers have already made their presence known."

And there, in the distance, they were.

Striding through the Heavenly Plain as if they belonged, sullying the divine realm without breaking formation, was, to many kami, the most revolting of sights.

Amidst the rising chorus of jeers from the kami, a host of ten thousand humans stepped forward, a testament to what could only be called mortal bravery.

Or, in divine terms, folly.

There was a short moment of silence as the mortals walked to their death, at full war footing, moving quickly and quietly.

They were fast, all of them.

This moment of silence was followed by the disgusted, contemptuous, amused laughter of the gods — rising to bloom into something jagged and ugly, until even Akaishi-Kawa felt ill at ease. The humans, for the most part, seemed to remain unconcerned.

'How can such a thing be?' Akaishi-Kawa wondered. Were they truly unaware of what fate had in store for them? Earth's many mortal creatures seemed to have more good sense than humans did, right now. Their lives were so short, already, so perhaps such a thing as shortening them even more didn't matter, perhaps. But for mortals, becoming part of Susanoo-Arashi, while a great honor, could not be seen as the most pleasant of tasks.

Piercing the uneasy quiet, and wasting no time at all, a voice rose — bold, unyielding. Its owner, of course, reeked of human Lightning.

"Where is he?"

To Akaishi-Kawa's disbelief, and to others' anger, none of the humans seemed to show Amaterasu-Yoake the respect she deserved. Not an inkling of it, even. The Usurper, least of all.

No, in fact, they seemed rather defiant, even as they ignored the jeers, the insults from the other kami. Incomprehension should have quickly vanished, yet it did not.

Then the Usurper's voice rose again, sharp and clear.

"Where is Susanoo-Arashi?"

Akaishi-Kawa felt an instinctive urge to shrink away, aware that in any realm less sacred, Amaterasu-Yoake's fury might have unleashed a world-ending conflagration upon the foolish humans. Yet, here, in this consecrated expanse, the sun goddess stood unmoved. Her silence, an impenetrable fortress. Amaterasu-Yoake had no reason to answer them, after all. There was only tense silence, stretching for far too long.

The human leader prodded another man, who resembled him eerily, although perhaps that was simply characteristic of Man. A man who cleared his throat.

"That's it?" He challenged, voice brimming with hot emotion. "You're just going to ignore us?"

Amaterasu-Yoake remained still, an unfathomable presence that did not deign to turn toward him. Taking a deep breath, the man stepped forward, as though his resolve steeled.

"We've seen pain, loss, and the darkness that dwells within the hearts of men. In the hearts of kami. But we've also seen light. Hope. Love."

His voice was slowly gaining strength. Akaishi-Kawa only watched, nearly transfixed, and knew he wasn't the only one.

"We're flawed, yes. We make mistakes, fight pointless battles, and hurt each other without meaning to." The same orange-clothed and yellow-haired human said. "But for every moment of despair, there's one of beauty. For every tear shed in sorrow, there's one of joy. That's what makes existence so precious! The contrast. The struggle. The perseverance!"

He paused, allowing his words to hang in the air, hoping they would find some purchase in the heart of the kami before him. To Akaishi-Kawa's disbelief, some of the jeering stopped.

The man shook his head.

"Call it coexistence, call it peace... It is not just a naive dream. It's a vision. A hard, often painful road that we choose to walk because the destination… is worth every step. You have the power to end many of us, to erase every trace of our existence. But you also have the power to help us. Just like we can help you. To guide each other towards a better path. Not as gods and mortals, not as masters and slaves..." He lifted his head, and his eyes were burning bright with resolve. "...But as partners. As beings sharing the same universe, each with our own part to play."

He took a long breath.

"I think that you kami and us humans—"

In that moment, the veil of silence was torn asunder, and the unthinkable occurred: Amaterasu-Yoake's divine voice answered.

"I have no patience for your words." She declared, a tempestuous blaze crashing against the mortal's waning candle. "And I believe Susanoo-Arashi will share my sentiment."

The words were a stark reminder of the chasm between mere mortal aspirations and the gods's will. The mortal opened his mouth again, after a slight pause.

"I know just how painful loneliness—"

"I said, silence."

And there was silence.

The mortal leader, the Usurper, gave the now scowling man a single nod — "we tried," it seemed to say, in human expressions.

The tension rose another notch. The air itself seemed to thrum with power, a charged anticipation that filled the air with palpable energy. Amaterasu-Yoake, her presence domineering, fixed her gaze upon the mortals, a gaze that held the weight of eons.

"Well, then?" The Usurper asked, shattering the silence.

"The contest begins the moment you choose for it to begin." She announced, her voice imbuing the words with a profound significance. "A battle for supremacy. One that will only stop when..." There was condescending amusement in her voice. And something else, as though a secret kept, that Akaishi-Kawa thought the human leader noticed as well. "…Either party has been obliterated."

The declaration hung in the air like the concept of time did — subtle, invisible, and equally ominous for the mortals.

The mortals, who by now, had to be acutely aware of their predicament. The contest, if it could be called that, was theirs to initiate and lose — a daunting privilege.

"I suppose we can't interest Susanoo-Arashi in a contest of darts for supremacy, then?" The black-haired man near the Usurper asked evenly.

"Do not waste more of my time." Amaterasu-Yoake said sharply. "Your Intent was clear when you bound yourself to this Oath."

"So it was." The Usurper closed his eyes, and began summoning rather large amounts of that foul human energy, just as ten thousand others did. "We are ready, then."

Amaterasu-Yoake laughed.

"Perhaps you should have chosen your last words with more care."

The great kami receded. At the same time, an impossibly vast dome of dark light spread to engulf the humans. It had two purposes:

It was an exception to Takamagahara's rule: a way for the incoming massacre to be shown to all kami, only possible through the Great Ones' shared power.

And more importantly, it was an impenetrable Domain of War, in which it was possible for the humans to die against Susanoo-Arashi.

In the fading light, where Amaterasu-Yoake's presence had once been, her sinister laughter lingered, a harbinger of the chaos to come. Her departure marked an end, certainly. A beginning, as well: a prelude to a saga of destruction that would echo through the annals of time.

And so it would.

There was no transition. No warning at all, nothing simply became something.

Reality trembled, and a rumbling followed. A deep, resonant rumbling that came from the furthest reaches. An ethereal echo that seemed to resonate from the very corner of existence: as though the universe itself, groaning. Storms and change. An impending cataclysm.

From the formless void, a cruel laugh rose. A massive hand rose where there had been nothing. With it, a sound as chilling as the wind slicing through the heart of a winter storm. The laugh echoed through the realm, a cruel and mocking gale.

Something shaped itself into the open hand. A force. Matter coalesced, something thicker than light, thinner than physical. An ethereal blade, brandished with an air of disdain — the Heavenly Storm Blade, forged from the tempests that roamed the edge of creation. Then, an arm, trailing off behind the hand and wrist.

Twin ominous lights, gleaming purple.

With a motion that was both deliberate and disdainful, Susanoo-Arashi's partial manifestation raised the blade even higher.

There was a pause, a collective shudder. And then, it fell.

The strike was an impossibility, a defiance of everything known and understood. It was as if the universe itself had been cleaved, every sense stretched to its limit and beyond. Light fractured, sound warped, and the very fabric of reality seemed to tear under the strain. The blade did not merely cut through the physical; it shattered the conceptual, rending apart the boundaries between existence and oblivion. The War Domain itself trembled, and for a moment, Akaishi-Kawa thought that it might break.

Akaishi-Kawa could not describe how it all felt. That very moment, that seemed to stretch on forever, showing him truths untold, a world in which all of this made sense. And then it was gone, out of his reach, and tauntingly so, as though he had never been meant to understand such notions.

And so he gave up on trying to remember the elusive feeling, or trying to describe the fall of Susanoo-Arashi's blade.

Or the ruin that followed.

There was only the Old God. His eyes were wild, almost manic with smug glee.

It took a moment for the world to catch up, for the senses to reconcile the inconceivable with the witnessed. The battle, if it could even be called that, had ended before the minds of those present had fully grasped the beginning. The aftermath was a silence. A void where once there had been the cacophony of life. The storm had passed already, leaving in its wake a legacy of devastation.

Of awe, Akaishi-Kawa reminded himself, a stark reminder of Heaven's Mandate.

But... Even then, as his senses took in the destruction wrought by Susanoo-Arashi, a peculiar sensation stirred within Akaishi-Kawa's soul.

It felt like a void, an unsettling emptiness — as though something was missing, or perhaps lost.

It felt too much like the humans had never been given a true chance.

The realization dawned on him that Susanoo-Arashi's ambush had been meticulously planned. For a brief, disloyal instant, he entertained the thought that the Enforcer's triumph might have been superficial, a display of might tinged with deception — a quality often attributed to humans.

And—

No.

The thought that might constitute trickery, that there could be room for disappointment in the face of divine judgment, flickered like a candle in the wind. It was extinguished as quickly as it arose. The decrees of the Old Gods were not to be questioned, not by him, not by any mortal. Their will was inscrutable, their actions, beyond the realm of mortal ethics.

In this realization, Akaishi-Kawa found a semblance of peace, if peace it could be called.

It was natural to the kami, he thought, somewhat despondently. An acceptance of the inevitable, a submission to the natural order as dictated by the powers that governed the cosmos.

The Old Gods' judgment, however incomprehensible, was absolute. In their hands, creation and destruction were but two sides of the same coin — a truth that Akaishi-Kawa, like all mortals, was bound to accept. And Susanoo-Arashi seemed to embody that concept, in this here and now.

Most other kami kneeled there, before the storm. There he stood, a display of eerie light in the shape of an arm and eyes, the victorious Enforcer. Triumphantly, and his thunderous laughter rolled across the land. Susanoo-Arashi hadn't needed to manifest fully to smite the mortals. It had been expected.

From the formless void came his voice.

THESE SOULS ARE MINE TO TAKE.

No one would contest it. Susanoo-Arashi's hand extended to claim the fallen's spirits, to devour them, perhaps.

It was then, in the moment right before his senses were engulfed by a dark tempest, that Akaishi-Kawa caught a glimpse of the unforeseen, of the impossible. Something so unexpected, so antithetical to the nature of the divine, that it seemed to defy the very fabric of reality.

It was a flicker of surprise, in the eyes of Susanoo-Arashi.

Then, there was dark light, stealing Akaishi-Kawa's senses. And foul, tainted... power, that could only be the humans', rose into a pillar of pure power, rising to the heavens and burning everything in its path.

For an instant, he thought, even the rains stopped.

"Do these artificial souls taste revolting to you?"

Unsure what it was that he had witnessed, Akaishi-Kawa simply remained silent when the human leader chose not to be. The taunting words came out from a void of a different kind, yet unseen, and they hung in the air.

Akaishi-Kawa's consciousness surged back from the abyss, a tide of exhaustion threatened to drown him. He was rather unfamiliar with the humans' power, not having been blessed with this sort of understanding. Trying to understand it brought a terrible weariness upon him, but he pushed through.

The cause of this strike, which had stolen his senses away for a moment, was not Susanoo-Arashi's weapon, although it bore a power that far eclipsed nearly any kami he had met. Even though such a thing was supposed to be impossible.

Still, it was the human leader's voice that he was hearing. And the same voice continued.

"Or do you look so displeased because you fell for the most basic of tricks?"

From the depths of Naraka itself, an immense maw had torn through the fabric of reality. The dark light that had shrouded the entire Domain seemed to have come from there. The maw yawned wide, and from its inky depths, nine figures of unparalleled, foul power emerged.

From the look in Susanoo-Arashi's twin burning eyes, which were fixed upon it, this sort of strategy wouldn't work twice.

But…

'Nine of them — A mere nine?'

At their forefront, brandishing twin swords and pale light, stood the Usurper — no, Uzumaki-Naruto.

A human was said to be a pitiful creature. Born only to die, wielding none of the truly supernatural power the kami were graced with. They lived lives of strife, if they could be called lives at all, that were shorter than a mere blink of Tsukiyomi-Yoru's great Eyes.

When Akaishi-Kawa looked at them, however, when he looked at Uzumaki-Naruto…

There was nothing measly about him. About any of them, in truth, in spite of their meager amounts of divine—

Akaishi-Kawa looked deeper, looked at him, then at the weapons the human was wielding, and instead of answers, only found his incomprehension growing.

'…What does this signify?'

Mortal humans looked the divine Storm in the eye, and time seemed to halt.

Around them, shards of broken light struggled to reassemble, dancing like flakes of snow in a sunbeam, a stark, breathtaking beauty amidst the chaos wrought.

WRETCH. The word, laden with multifaceted disdain, scornful amusement, and perhaps a hint of pity, echoed through the ether. IF THAT IS ALL THAT YOUR BEST EFFORTS AMOUNT TO, YOU MIGHT AS WELL SLEEP.

It was what Akaishi-Kawa would do, faced with the warbling thunder, with the edict of gods.

"Well, I'll give you that. We spared no effort." Uzumaki Naruto said instead, with eyes that seemed both wary and already planning their next move. "But we'll take small victories, as well. You are not as untouchable as you believe. Your audience will soon notice it."

I NEED NOT SUMMON MY FULL MIGHT FOR SUCH A DEMONSTRATION. The Storm said.

INDEED, THE MAJORITY OF YOU SHALL NOT MERIT THE TARNISHING OF MY BLADE.

"Aside from me, that is?" Uzumaki-Naruto's smile held a cold fury. Akaishi-Kawa had never heard such a terrible wrath in a mortal's voice. "Before you speak of my death at your hands... I recommend you heal your wounds, beast."

I RECOMMEND YOU DROWN IN YOUR MISPLACED FAITH.

Aside from the two opposing voices, there was only silence.

Akaishi-Kawa thought, with terrible dread, that he might know the reason why. His senses turned toward Susanoo-Arashi, before many other kami's did, unsure why he was even heeding the mortal's words—

As he gazed upon the deity, disbelief, treacherous and profound, seized him.

The kami of storms' right arm, the only manifested one, bore unmistakable marks of wounds. Though healing swiftly, the arm's reconstitution was evident in the subdued crackle of thunder, the sizzling sound that followed.

To Akaishi-Kawa, it spoke of dread, of a reality he had never conceived possible. The trickery that had supposedly befallen Agehacho-Yōsei was one thing. Susanoo-Arashi falling prey to a human-born deception, even once, was bad enough on its own. This… This was another sort of matter entirely.

Mortals, wounding an Old God?

There were murmurs rising amongst the kami. More of his divine kin seemed to be appearing with each fluctuation in the Thread, drawn to the horrifying spectacle like moths to flame. One thing was becoming clear to Akaishi-Kawa.

Times were coming to an end, then.

lensdump:

i/pzcszz : Dawnbreaker

AN: Uh... we're not stopping on chapter 102, in the end. Promise it's not just because it wasn't a pretty number.

Next chapter: The Ocean