The moment the final notification appeared, reality itself seemed to fracture. The nightmarish landscape of the underworld shattered like glass, fragments of mist and shadow swirling around Akira in a dizzying vortex. He caught glimpses of the other participants—some screaming in terror, others simply fading away—before they too were swept into the maelstrom of dissolving reality.
Akira felt himself falling, or perhaps flying, through an endless void. Just as panic began to set in, he landed hard on a surface he couldn't see. Gasping for breath, he struggled to his feet, his body aching from the trials he'd endured.
He found himself in a space that defied comprehension. It was vast beyond measure, yet simultaneously claustrophobic. Soft, pulsing light emanated from everywhere and nowhere, shifting through colors that had no names. The very air seemed alive, thrumming with barely contained power.
And then, He appeared.
Izanagi, the creator god, manifested before Akira in a display that threatened to overwhelm his mortal senses. The deity's form was a contradiction—simultaneously there and not there, solid yet ethereal. One moment he appeared as a noble warrior, resplendent in gleaming armor. The next, he was an ancient sage, wisdom etched into every line of his face. Then, unsettlingly, he twisted into something almost demonic, all sharp angles and burning eyes, before settling back into a more benign form.
But it was Izanagi's eyes that truly struck fear into Akira's heart. When he could perceive them, they held the depth of eternity, the weight of countless millennia, and the raw, terrifying spark of creation itself. Akira felt laid bare before that gaze, every thought, every action, every secret part of his soul exposed and judged.
When Izanagi spoke, his voice resonated not just in Akira's ears, but in the very core of his being. It was the rumble of tectonic plates, the roar of solar flares, the whisper of the first light in the universe.
"Akira Kageyama," the god intoned, his voice devoid of emotion. "You have navigated the shadows of the underworld and emerged unbroken. But do not mistake survival for worthiness."
Akira wanted to speak, to ask questions, to plead his case, but found himself utterly mute before the god's presence.
Izanagi continued, his form shifting rapidly now, as if struggling to maintain coherence in the mortal realm. "I have watched you, Akira Kageyama. I have seen your compassion, yes, but I have also seen your doubts, your fears, your moments of weakness. Tell me, why should I entrust the power of creation to one so... human?"
The god's question hung in the air, a challenge and a test. Akira's mind raced, searching for an answer that could satisfy a being who had seen the birth and death of worlds.
Finding his voice at last, Akira spoke, his words sounding pitifully small in the vast, otherworldly space. "I... I don't know if I am worthy. The trial showed me the depths of human complexity, the darkness we all carry. But it also showed me the potential for growth, for redemption."
Izanagi's form solidified slightly, taking on the aspect of a stern judge. "Pretty words, mortal. But words are wind. What proof can you offer of your worthiness?"
Akira felt a surge of something—not quite defiance, but a deep, unshakeable conviction. "My proof is that I stand here before you, Izanagi-sama. I saw the worst of humanity in those spirits, but I also saw myself in them. If I am worthy of your power, it is because I understand its weight, its responsibility. I don't seek to rise above humanity, but to guide it, to help bridge the gap between the mortal and divine."
For a long moment, Izanagi was silent. The pulsing light around them seemed to hold its breath. Then, almost imperceptibly, the god's expression softened.
"Interesting," Izanagi mused, his voice losing some of its overwhelming force. "Most who reach this point boast of their strength, their superiority over those who failed. You speak of responsibility, of connection. Perhaps..."
The god's form shifted once more, settling into the image of a wise, battle-scarred warrior. "Very well, Akira Kageyama. You have shown a spark of something... unique. But know this: my power is not a gift. It is a burden, a test that never ends. Are you prepared to bear that weight?"
Akira stood straighter, meeting the god's gaze as best he could. "I am."
A hint of what might have been approval flickered in Izanagi's eyes. "We shall see, young one. We shall see. Now, brace yourself. The power of creation is not easily received."
Before Akira could respond, Izanagi raised a hand. The world exploded into blinding light, and Akira felt himself being unmade and remade, molecule by molecule. As consciousness began to fade, he heard Izanagi's voice one last time:
"Awaken, Akira Kageyama, champion of Izanagi. Your true trial begins now."
Then, everything went white.
When Akira's vision cleared, he found himself back in Ueno Park, sprawled on the ground before the now-dormant gate of Izanagi. The familiar sounds of Tokyo—sirens, panicked voices, the distant rumble of aftershocks—rushed back, a stark contrast to the otherworldly silence he had just experienced.
As he struggled to his feet, a notification appeared in his vision:
```
[System Notification]
Congratulations! You have acquired:
- Izanagi Aspect Level 1
- Skill: Realm Walker Lv.1 (Ability to sense and interact with spiritual entities)
Warning: Use of Realm Walker skill consumes spiritual energy. Overuse may result in physical and mental exhaustion.
```
Akira stared at the notification, trying to process everything that had just happened. He felt different—there was a new awareness thrumming through his body, a sense of connection to something vast and unknowable.
He looked around, half-expecting the world to appear changed to his new senses. At first glance, everything seemed normal. The park was still in chaos from the earthquake, with people running around in panic or huddled in groups for safety. But as he focused, he began to notice subtle differences.
Faint, ghostly shapes flickered at the edges of his vision—spirits, he realized, that had always been there but that he'd never been able to see before. Some seemed confused, others peaceful, while a few radiated anger or sorrow.
A groan from nearby snapped Akira's attention back to the physical world. Other trial participants were beginning to appear, ejected from the trial as he had been. Many looked shell-shocked, their eyes wide with disbelief or terror at what they had experienced.
Before he could approach any of them, a commotion from across the park caught his attention. A crowd was gathering around another massive door that had appeared—this one gleaming gold and radiating warmth like the sun itself.
```
[System Notification]
The Trial of Amaterasu
Current Status: Open (986/1000 participants)
Estimated Time Until Full: 2 minutes
```
Akira's breath caught in his throat. Amaterasu—the sun goddess, one of the most important deities in the Shinto pantheon. Her trial was open, and people were flocking to it in droves.
For a moment, he considered trying to enter. With his new powers, maybe he could pass Amaterasu's trial as well. But as he took a step forward, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. The trial of Izanagi had taken more out of him than he'd realized.
```
[System Warning]
Spiritual energy low. Rest recommended before attempting further divine interactions.
```
Akira hesitated, torn between the desire to gain more power and the need to recover. As he watched, the crowd around Amaterasu's door grew more frenzied. People were pushing and shoving, desperate to be among the chosen thousand who would face her trial.
Suddenly, a brilliant flash of golden light erupted from the door. When Akira's vision cleared, he saw a young woman standing where the door had been. She was radiant, her long black hair shimmering with sunlight, her eyes bright with newfound power. The girl—Akira recognized her as a senior from his school—looked around in wonder before being engulfed by a cheering crowd.
```
[System Notification]
The Trial of Amaterasu has been completed.
Trial Gate is now closed. Cooldown period: 1 month.
```
The golden door faded away, leaving behind a shimmering outline that slowly dimmed. The crowd that had gathered began to disperse, many looking disappointed or angry at missing their chance.
As the adrenaline of the trial began to wear off, the reality of the situation started to sink in. The world had changed irrevocably. Gods of myth and legend were real, and they were granting humans divine powers. What did this mean for society, for the future of humanity?
Akira's phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out to find a barrage of missed calls and messages, most from his father and Kenji. With everything that had happened, he'd completely forgotten about them.
```
[Dad]: Akira, where are you? Are you safe? Please call me as soon as you can.
[Kenji]: Dude, are you seeing this? There's a freaking golden door in the park! Call me!
```
Guilt washed over Akira. His father must be worried sick. And Kenji... how could he even begin to explain what had happened?
As he was about to call his dad, another notification popped up:
```
[Emergency Alert]
Due to unprecedented supernatural events, a state of emergency has been declared for the Tokyo metropolitan area. All citizens are advised to return to their homes or seek shelter immediately. Further instructions will be provided as the situation develops.
```
Akira looked around the park. Despite the alert, many people were still milling about, discussing the events in excited or fearful tones. Some were trying to document everything on their phones, while others seemed to be in shock, unable to process what they'd witnessed.
As he turned to leave the park, Akira caught sight of his reflection in a nearby pond. For a moment, he thought he saw a faint, ethereal glow surrounding him—a visible sign of the Izanagi Aspect he now carried. Then he blinked, and it was gone.