The night breeze blew through the jungle-covered hills as the group of warriors, led by Lord Kamimizu and his father, the Elder Kamimizu, positioned themselves in a circle around the terrifying Shinjetsu. It was unlike any fissure they had seen before. Not only was it larger—it breathed, as if it were alive.
—Form the circle! —commanded the Elder Kamimizu with authority.
Everyone obeyed. They placed themselves around the rift and raised their hands in unison. Ancient seals began to emerge from the palms of each warrior, glowing with a dim light—arcane symbols passed down through generations. The air grew dense. A low hum spread through the forest.
—Dimensional Seal, now! —shouted the elder.
The energy of the Onis united in a luminous current that struck the fissure. It responded with a guttural roar, resisting, as if it had a will of its own. The wind turned violent, and the ground trembled slightly. Some warriors gasped, exhaustion coursing through their muscles.
—Don't give up! Keep going! —yelled Lord Kamimizu, drenched in sweat.
The fissure began to shrink slowly, though with abrupt convulsions. Suddenly, a wave of pressure pushed the group back. The heart of the fissure pulsed once more, but in a final flash, it sealed. The darkness vanished. Silence reigned.
—W-we did it… —said the Oni woman, collapsing to her knees, breathing hard.
—How satisfying… —said another warrior with relief—. What we just stopped… could've destroyed the whole village.
But the Elder Kamimizu did not share their enthusiasm. With a cold and piercing gaze, he replied:
—Don't celebrate yet. You're acting naïve. This was only the beginning… Something dangerous is coming. Far more than any of you can imagine.
Lord Kamimizu nodded with a grim face.
—You're right, father. A Shinjetsu appearing here so suddenly… we must be better prepared. This was a warning.
—Yes, sir! —they all responded, this time more serious.
Soon after, the group began their return to the village. As they descended through moonlit paths, a small pink fissure briefly opened in the sky… and vanished instantly.
---
The next morning dawned with energy. Jiro, full of vitality, ran out of the house.
—I'm going to the village! —he shouted cheerfully.
Meanwhile, at the explorers' headquarters, Lord Kamimizu signed the last papers while looking out the window.
—Hmph… the wind's picked up. A storm's coming —he muttered.
---
At home, Lady Kamimizu struggled with the laundry. The wind whipped the clothes around, some falling to the ground.
—With this wind, I won't be able to hang anything! —she said in frustration, looking at the sky as lightning touched the hilltops.
---
Meanwhile, in an open field, Jiro played with other children.
—I'm Raizen Tenkuma, the Dimensional Traveler! I've come to save you!
A human boy with a tired look, Kenji, scoffed.
—This again…
—I always choose to be Raizen because one day I'll be him! —Jiro exclaimed firmly.
—We didn't even give you a choice, you just claimed it —Kenji joked.
The children laughed, but Jiro looked to the horizon and said seriously:
—You'll see… one day I'll be a real one.
He ran through the field but, not looking ahead, bumped into someone. He fell to the ground with an "Ouch!"
—Jiro? —said Lord Kamimizu—. What are you doing here?
—I went to play, Dad… I was heading home.
—What a coincidence… then let's go back together. I'm done for today —his father smiled, picking him up on his back.
They walked in silence for a few steps, until Jiro said:
—Dad… I love you a lot. Thanks for teaching me everything. I don't know what I'd do without you…
Lord Kamimizu remained silent, moved. Then he replied:
—Your words fill me with happiness, son. Thanks to you, I'm a better person too.
But then, murmurs rose around them. People were pointing at the sky.
—What is that?
They both looked up: a pink line, like a crack in the sky, floated suspended… trembling slightly.
The sky trembled like a shattered sea of crystal. People raised their eyes, and among them, Jiro, wide-eyed, exclaimed:
—Dad, look at that in the sky!
Lord Kamimizu looked up, his expression tightening. A thin pink line tore across the heavens as if someone were drawing it with fire.
—What is this…? —Kamimizu muttered gravely—. I don't understand...
The line widened, twisting into impossible shapes. A woman in the crowd screamed:
—It's opening more…!
And like a crack spreading across glass on the verge of breaking, new fissures sprouted: one beside it, another below, then another.
—More and more are opening! —shouted a boy.
Then, from the first fissure—the largest, the most grotesque—slowly emerged a colossal hand, with elongated fingers and skin like hardened lava. A female voice cried:
—What is that…?
Jiro, increasingly distressed, clung to his father's arm.
—Dad… what's happening? Dad...
Without a second thought, Kamimizu lifted him into his arms and began to run.
—We're getting out of here, now!
From the smaller fissures came horned spirits, floating with glowing eyes and horrifying howls, attacking the villagers without mercy. Chaos erupted.
From the main fissure finally emerged the creature: a Colossal Spirit, a being from another dimension. It was no ordinary Shinjetsu...
It was a Daiketsu.
A monumental anomaly, the size of a mountain, covered in crimson fire with twisted horns rising to the sky. Each step distorted the air, each roar broke reality itself. A lightning bolt struck from the clouds and hit the ground, unleashing a hellish blaze.
The sky split completely, turning black. Space cracked. Time wavered. Mountains collapsed from the tremors.
The blast was so powerful that the ground split open. A cloud of smoke and rocks covered everything.
Jiro fell. His vision darkened.
...
Darkness.
...
A voice… distant… familiar…
—Jiro… Jiro!
He opened his eyes. Before him, his father's face, bloodied with a wound on his forehead, gently shook him.
—It's okay, son… everything will be fine… stay with me, okay?... I'll take you home…
Around them, the world was ash and fire. Motionless bodies on the ground. Voices crying for help. Screams. Despair. Everything blurry...
Kamimizu carried him and ran with all his strength through the destruction, until they reached a hidden underground shelter, already prepared in advance. Inside, his wife was waiting, and upon seeing Jiro, she embraced him in tears.
—Jiro! You're safe, thank the heavens!
Lord Kamimizu looked at them one last time, his eyes filled with resolve.
—Don't worry… I'll come back once everything's taken care of.
—Dad, don't go! Don't leave me! —Jiro pleaded, holding his father tightly.
—Sweetheart… —his mother said gently—. You have to let your father go… it's his duty… he will return...
Kamimizu knelt, looked Jiro in the eyes, and placed his necklace around his son's neck, a family talisman.
—This is a promise, son. No matter what happens, I'll always be with you. Dad… always comes back.
Jiro couldn't hold back his tears as he watched his father rise and step out of the shelter.
—Chief Kamimizu! —an explorer shouted, running up—. Come quickly! The giant spirit is destroying everything!
Lord Kamimizu nodded without hesitation, advancing with determination as his son watched him disappear into the distance, his silhouette outlined by the orange glow of the fires.
And then...
A flash.
A white light that covered everything. Absolute silence.
That was...
…the last day Jiro saw his father.
He never came back.
The silence was thick. The air smelled of smoke and death.
The village that was once home was now nothing more than a field of charred ruins.
The houses were scorched skeletons. The trees, twisted black shadows. The wind blew weakly, carrying ashes as if mourning those who were gone.
Everything was over.
Among the remains, a few survivors gathered what they could salvage. Empty gazes. Slow steps. Broken hearts.
There was no time for burials. Only survival.
Jiro's father… never returned.
And the village, Yamashiga, had ceased to exist.
A small group, guided by hope, moved on. Among them, Jiro, his mother, and his grandfather. The elder Kamimizu —father of the brave man who never came back— walked solemnly, escorting his family with dignity and silence.
Jiro said nothing.
His eyes had lost their light.
His tears no longer came.
He just held on to his mother, as if she were the only thing keeping him standing.
Days passed. Maybe weeks. The road was harsh. The cold nights, the painful memories, the unanswered questions.
At last, they arrived at a new village: Hanayori, a quiet place among hills and wheat fields. The villagers welcomed them with compassion.
There, they started over.
A small house. A new community.
Peace… at least on the surface.
Jiro, quieter than ever, would watch from the window each night, perhaps hoping to see his father's silhouette among the trees… but it never appeared.
Still, this was not the end.
It was only the beginning.
The beginning of a new life for Jiro.
A life marked by loss, but also by a promise...
...the promise of a father who once said:
—Dad always comes back.