Sumitsu felt a familiar disorientation as the portal transported her from the mortal plane. The transition always took a moment to adjust. She was filled with a melancholy sense of nostalgia as her senses were engulfed by the familiarity of eternity.
The portal closed, and she found herself standing in a vast amphitheater that was impossible to describe. The mortal plane could not contain such a structure, as its geometry allowed billions of attendees to see and hear everything that happened on the center stage with the clarity of a front-row seat.
Her body had transformed as well. She no longer held the form of a sixteen-year-old girl in travel clothes but instead manifested her true identity as the Avatar of the Moon. Taller and more radiant, draped in robes that shimmered with captured starlight, her golden hair cascaded down her back in waves that seemed to move with their own celestial breeze.
The amphitheater buzzed with divine activity. Representatives from all seven worlds had gathered, their various forms creating a tapestry of cosmic hierarchy. She recognized many from previous spiritual visits, although seeing them now felt different—more urgent, more fraught with tension.
"Sumitsu!"
She turned just as a blur of fluorescent aquamarine hair crashed into her, arms wrapping around her in a desperate embrace. Minori held her as if she might disappear again, and Sumitsu could feel sixteen years of separation in that single moment of contact.
"Oh, Minori. I've missed you, too."
They clung to each other, neither willing to be the first to let go. For immortal beings, a decade might pass like a season, but for younger souls like these sisters who had never been apart before Sumitsu's mortality, it felt like lifetimes.
When Minori finally pulled back to look at her, Sumitsu noticed the cat ears that had materialized atop her sister's head—a sure sign that her emotions were running high. They'd always been Minori's tell, as they appeared whenever she felt particularly happy or distressed.
"You looked different," Minori said as she studied her sister's face with heterochromatic azure and aquamarine eyes. "More… grounded somehow. Did mortality really change you that much?"
"It changed everything," Sumitsu replied breathlessly. "I have a body that gets tired, Minori. I can smell and taste and feel heat and cold. Sometimes I forget how overwhelming the physical world can be. It's miraculous."
"And the boys? What are they like?"
Before Sumitsu could respond, familiar green energy sparkled nearby and then coalesced into the tall figure of Okomikeruko. The Messenger Avatar's angular features were as sharp as ever, and his glowing green eyes held their characteristic blend of wisdom and barely contained mischievousness.
"Little Moon," he uttered the childhood nickname that always made Sumitsu smile. "Welcome home."
"Uncle Oko!" both sisters responded in unison, their voices creating a harmony that rippled visibly through the divine atmosphere.
"Little Flower," he addressed Minori, "I trust you've been keeping busy with your investigations?"
Minori's cat ears drooped slightly. "As busy as one could be when chasing shadows and following cold trails."
Sumitsu felt a chill at the word. "Investigations?"
"Later," Okomikeruko said firmly. "First, there are family obligations to attend to."
He led them through the amphitheater's grand pathways, past clusters of divine beings engaged in intense conversations. The atmosphere felt different from previous gatherings—more urgent, more fearful. Even among immortals, the murder of a god had shaken fundamental beliefs about safety and permanence.
As they walked, Sumitsu noticed a solitary figure standing apart from the others on a distant observation platform. Even from this distance, something about the figure's posture conveyed profound isolation.
"Is that…?"
"Tokimi," Minori confirmed quietly. "She hadn't been the same since… well, since everything happened."
They approached slowly, allowing Sumitsu time to process what she was seeing. At first glance, Tokimi appeared much as she always had—tall, regal, draped in robes that suggested both motherhood and divine authority. But as they drew nearer, Sumitsu's enhanced perception began to reveal the truth.
Tokimi's spirit rings were devastated. Where Avatars had always possessed five or more perfect concentric circles symbolizing their divine connection, each ring embellished with flowing calligraphic intricacies unique to the individual, Tokimi's rings were shattered fragments held together by sheer will. Large sections had been torn away, leaving gaps like pieces missing from a cosmic puzzle. The vibrant indigo hue that once radiated with celestial light had faded to a dull grayish shade, dim as a candle. The sight of it made Sumitsu's spirit shrink in horror.
How could anyone survive such spiritual trauma? It was like seeing someone's soul after it had been put through a shredder. Sumitsu couldn't suppress her shocked gasp.
Tokimi turned at the sound, and her smile was gentle but did nothing to mask her sadness. "Sumitsu, dear child. I know this must not be easy to see. I'm afraid I am rather a reminder of our vulnerability these days."
"I'm sorry," Sumitsu stammered. "I didn't mean to stare. It was just… I knew what had happened to you, but seeing it…"
"..Is quite different from just hearing about it," Tokimi finished. "Yes, I understand. The first widow in divine history. I am something of a unique specimen." Her voice carried no self-pity, only a bone-deep weariness that spoke of impossible burdens carried for too long.
Kamoshami's death took the greatest toll on Tokimi. Avatars gained their powers and glory from the Deity to whom they bind themselves; without the indigo power of Kamoshami, Tokimi's spirit rings hung by a thread.
Sumitsu felt powerless to assist her fellow Avatar. She imagined what it would feel like if her father's power were taken from her. The terror that thought evoked shook her to her core.
"Beloved daughter."
The voice carried warmth that could melt glaciers and an authority that could command solar systems to reorganize themselves. Sumitsu turned to see her father approaching, his golden radiance undimmed by the cosmic crisis surrounding them.
Despite all celestial protocols and the watchful eyes of the assembled divine beings, she ran to him. Shinjin caught her in an embrace that lifted her feet off the ground; his laughter caused several nearby conversations to pause as onlookers turned to witness such open affection.
In that moment, held in her loving father's arms, all thoughts of disconnection and distress vanished from Sumitsu's troubled heart. Her worries and woes became as naught. Her whole world was right here, right now, and forevermore.
When Shinjin finally set his daughter down, her mother, Megumi, was waiting with open arms and a smile that made the very idea of love seem inadequate.
"My dear one," her mother said, embracing her with the careful tenderness of infinite love consciously restrained to mortal-bearable levels. "Tell us of your boys. How did they carry the weight we've placed upon them?"
The question brought everything back into sharp focus. Sumitsu glanced around, suddenly aware of how many beings were listening and how much depended on her assessment.
"They don't know," she said. "The decoy suspects something unusual. He's always been perceptive. The anomaly remains… well, completely focused on the tournament competition."
"And your feelings toward them?" Shinjin's question carried multiple layers of meaning.
Sumitsu considered the question carefully. "I care for them both. They are good people who will become good men. The arrangement…" She paused and met her father's eyes. "I accept what you've planned, Father. But what we were asking of them feels like such a burden."
"A necessary burden," Shinjin interjected reassuringly. "Come. The council is about to begin, and there are things you need to understand."
The hosts of the Celestium arranged themselves in the numerous alcoves, risers, box seats, and pews with reverence and efficiency, each group establishing a clear hierarchy. Shinjin's throne blazed with golden light, while Megumi's appeared carved from a single magnificent pearl. The other Gods and Avatars took their places as well.
But the seventh throne—Kamoshami's throne of deep indigo, made from the wood of the Great Tree of Life—stood empty. Not absent, not removed, but empty in a way that hurt to acknowledge physically. The throne itself seemed to mourn. Tokimi stood beside it, resting a hand upon it. Sumitsu found herself seated among the active Avatars, positioned to see both the divine council and Okomikeruko, who stood at the center of the ring to address the assembly.
"Sisters. Brothers. Friends both old and new," Okomikeruko began his oration to the Thrones. "We are gathered together to witness and celebrate the return of the Tournament of Templars. There is much excitement and speculation surrounding this year's competitors. Blessings will be bestowed. Lives will be lost and restored. All will continue as it has for centuries.
"But that is not the only reason why we are gathered here and now. As some of you may already know, there have been some developments in the situation on Hogar." A murmur passed through the assembly. "We now invite our beloved sister and friend, Tokimi, Avatar of Motherhood, to take the stage and tell us her story."
Silence fell as all revered The Widow Tokimi. With her head held high like a queen, yet with a halt in her step, she crossed the distance between the Throne of Indigo and the center stage. Sumitsu gazed in awe and wonder at the unfathomable strength of character Tokimi exuded on her agonizing trek to the stage.
"My friends," Tokimi began, her voice carrying clearly across the vast space. "Sixteen years have passed since the God-killer struck. Sixteen years of struggling to hold together a cosmic infrastructure that was never designed to bear such strain."
Images formed in the air above them—scenes from Hogar that showed the ongoing crisis. Cities where divine blessings had failed, children born without the subtle protections that had safeguarded them for millennia; hope itself had become a rare commodity.
"The dark monks have corrupted much of my husband's former priesthood," Tokimi continued. "They promise power through sacrifice. They prey on desperate people. They say that their god has abandoned them. Each act of their twisted faith has weakened the very foundations of community."
The images shifted to show a group of young girls, their faces bright with the innocence of youth. The Avatars studied each and every face.
"But there was hope," Tokimi said. "These children consumed sunberries during my husband's final harvest. They carry within themselves seeds of genuine divine essence—not corrupted power, but the real thing, waiting to be properly cultivated. They are coming to the Tournament as envoys in my name. They will serve the Avatars in the Sky Box at the Colosseum. I ask that you love them as you love me."
The combined hosts of the Celestium vowed to do just that. Tokimi smiled, a weight lifted off her shoulders. She returned to stand beside her husband's throne.
Shinjin rose from his golden throne. "I have an announcement to make. This year, my Templars, in a show of pure willpower, will not accept healing during the tournament."
Sumitsu glanced at her father. He was talking about Naroki and Goji. No healing between bouts? That's absurd. Wait. This was the plan. The anomaly can't be healed, so the decoy must suffer in kind. Sumitsu took some calming breaths, a skill she had acquired with a mortal body.
The meeting continued much like it had from the start: Gods and Avatars boasting about their disciples, engaging in good-natured banter, and experiencing a general breakdown of the otherwise reverent decorum.
Sumitsu and Minori escaped the hullabaloo and found a secluded corner where they could talk privately.
"What did you mean by 'investigation '? What have you gotten yourself into?" Sumitsu's concern for her twin sister was on full display.
Minori searched Sumitsu's face for any sign of recognition, anything to start from. As the Avatar of Truth for the Goddess of Love, she could discern any untruths or underlying misconceptions. And she could tell that Sumitsu was in the dark about a great many things.
"You don't know." Minori gasped in horror and held both hands over her mouth.
Sumitsu took a step back, overwhelmed by her sister's unexpected response. "W-what don't I know?"
As if sensing their mutual distress, Okomikeruko materialized next to them. "Little Moon, Little Flower, I think it best you come with me."
The girls followed their beloved 'Uncle Oko' without hesitation. Sumitsu would occasionally glance at Minori, who would shy away from her questioning gaze.
Megumi, the Goddess of Love, and her husband Shinjin, the God of Willpower, welcomed their Avatar daughters into their throne room. The five of them, with Okomikeruko off to the side, sat in a circle as a private council.
"In the timeline of the Gods, all will come to know everything in the end. Eternity can be like that." Megumi spoke with a heavy heart. "We never meant to withhold this knowledge from you, Sumitsu. It's only recently that we've realized our failure to inform you."
Shinjin stepped in for his wife, who started to cry. "You are my Avatar. Therefore, you are somewhat detached from the events involving other Gods and their Avatars. Still, it was a surprise for all of us to realize our shortcomings in this matter."
Sumitsu became more uneasy with all the preamble. She still didn't know what had happened.
"Kaniso is missing," Minori blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.
"What? Missing? When? How?" Sumitsu's questions spilled out of her as her mind raced with the realization of the obvious. Minori is now Megumi's prime Avatar, a position previously held by their older brother, Kaniso, the Avatar of Dreams.
"The Celestium has been in turmoil since the murder of Kamoshami at the hands of the creature we have named Kagunokon," Shinjin explained, masking his emotions behind willful stoicism. "Kaniso's gift of seeing more planes simultaneously than any other Avatar singled him out as the best option for investigating the events of that night. So he, under the watchful protection of Shiratakemaru, the Avatar of Victory for the God of Courage, was sent to the Tree of Life to investigate. All this was decided shortly after you were born into a mortal body.
"Their investigation seemed to be bearing fruit. We very nearly had a full report on the events of that evening. Then, one day six years ago, he didn't return. There is no trace of him in the Celestium. We suspect that Kagunokon may still be alive. And now it is that Minori has taken his place as Megumi's Avatar. And with her gift of Truth, she investigates his disappearance."
Sumitsu sat, staring at her feet for a long time. Her brother was missing. Not dead like Kamoshami, where a body and the aftermath remained. Missing. No evidence. Gone without a trace.
She thought back to Tokimi with her fractured rings, absent the influence of her God Husband. The connection is vital between the Gods and their Avatars. Unbreakable, she had thought, now gone. Imperceivable. Undetectable. And her sister was still looking for him.
"Why Minori?" Sumitsu asked her parents. "How can you put her in the same danger? First Kamoshami, now Kaniso?" Sumitsu's human response took Minori by surprise and brought the others to bow their heads in shame.
"I volunteered." Minori defiantly declared. "I," further protests were halted by Sumitsu's expression of terror and mourning. She lost a brother, and her sister was boldly venturing into the same lion's den.
"Someone has to." Shinjin's voice was both reassuring and authoritative. "If Kagunokon survives, it will not stop until we are all dead."
"Besides, I'm not alone." Minori found her voice again. "I have Shiratakemaru to protect me and Okomikeruko to teleport us out the moment things get even a little suspicious."
Sumitsu was not comforted by these assurances. She has been mortal for the last sixteen years. In that time, she's witnessed death and disease, pestilence and famine. She knew all too well the emotional toll the loss of a loved one had on the survivors. But this was different. While the Gods had heavens and hells set aside for the souls of deceased mortals, there was no place set aside for the death of a God.
While Sumitsu struggled with these traumatic revelations, Shinjin rose to his feet and approached her. He placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder and spoke with a soothing voice.
"Beloved daughter. You have valid reasons to fear. We are all of us afraid. But we must not let fear rule our decisions. If we are being attacked, we must use what resources we have to defend ourselves against the enemy.
"It has killed the Tree of Life. We are rationing our powers and dedicating our resources to the ascension of Tokimi to restore the Seven. We are stretched thin. We are all sacrificing to ensure we have a future.
"Please, honor your sister's commitment to finding Kaniso."
Sumitsu met Minori's mismatched eyes and shared a silent moment that spoke volumes. She nodded, hesitantly, shakily. There was no confidence in it, just a begrudging acknowledgment of necessity.