The sun crept over the horizon, casting soft rays through the grand windows of the manor. Slowly, the gods and goddesses began to stir, their divine forms veiled in the mundane guise of high school students. Takayama Shinzui, the ever-watchful observer, was the first to rise, his mind already spinning with the intricacies of the narrative unfolding around him.
As they all woke, sleepy chatter filled the air, the gods and goddesses exchanging casual remarks as they headed toward the washrooms. Despite their divinity, they were eager to experience the trivialities of human life—such as washing up and getting ready for the day.
Before disappearing into the washroom, Yui, the Goddess of the Fictional Plane—Momozono Yui—turned to Shinzui with a smile that radiated warmth. "Takayama-kun, your bed was incredibly comfortable! It was almost too good to be true."
Shinzui responded with a small, satisfied smile. "I'm glad you liked it," he replied, while inwardly, he was amused, observing them all with keen interest. Each little action, each word they uttered, was fascinating to him—so much excitement to observe, so much complexity to enjoy.
Once everyone had freshened up and changed into their school uniforms, they gathered in the manor's garden, where a freshly baked cake and steaming cups of tea awaited them. The aroma of the tea, mixed with the sweetness of the cake, filled the air, drawing the gods and goddesses in like moths to a flame.
Haruto, the God of the Metaphysical Plane—Aozora Haruto—was the first to comment. "Takayama-kun, your cooking is amazing," he said, his eyes gleaming with delight as he took a bite of the cake. "We might end up addicted to it!"
Shinzui chuckled softly, allowing himself a brief moment of satisfaction. "It seems I have more than just a unique aura," he replied, feigning modesty while inwardly enjoying their reactions. In truth, cooking was just another facet of the persona he'd crafted—another part of his endless performance.
After breakfast, the group left the manor, Shinzui locking the gate behind them. The walk to school was peaceful, but he could feel the curious gazes of the neighbors. It was hard to go unnoticed when you were in the company of such extraordinary beings, even if they currently appeared to be ordinary students.
As they neared the school, Kazuki—Shirogane Kazuki, the Foundational God—casually proposed an idea that immediately grabbed everyone's attention. "How about tonight, we visit that place I mentioned?" he asked, his voice filled with intrigue.
Shinzui, ever the composed observer, played his part perfectly, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "You mean the realm that's different from this one, Kazuki-sama?" he asked, inwardly laughing at the complexity of the narrative. He knew exactly what Kazuki meant, and the thought of how the story would unfold brought him endless amusement.
Kazuki nodded with a grin. "Exactly. It's a place where time flows so slowly that it almost feels like it's stopped. I think it would be an interesting experience for everyone."
Shinzui feigned shock, even as he inwardly chuckled at the absurdity of the explanation. "Is it really okay to go there during school hours, Kazuki-sama? I mean, won't we lose track of time?"
Kazuki, clearly excited by the idea, dismissed Shinzui's concern with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about that! Time there flows so slowly that one second on Earth equals a thousand *gogolplex* eons there. We'll barely be gone for a moment."
Shinzui's jaw dropped dramatically—though inwardly, he was bursting with laughter at the whole situation. The gods and goddesses were so immersed in their game, oblivious to the fact that he knew everything from beginning to end. Still, he played along, enjoying every second of their antics.
As evening approached, they returned to the abandoned shrine—the portal to this mysterious realm. One by one, the gods and goddesses transformed into their divine forms. Shinzui watched them, his expression one of awe and amazement, though in his mind, he was thoroughly entertained. Their divine forms were nothing short of spectacular, and even though he knew what was coming, seeing them like this never got old.
With a surge of power, they entered the realm Kazuki had mentioned—a place that lay outside of the known planes. The air was thick with the presence of something ancient, and the landscape stretched endlessly, a surreal void where time seemed to hang in perpetual stasis.
Kazuki turned to Shinzui, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement. "Welcome to the Conceptual Emptiness, Takayama-kun. This is where we'll be training you, unlocking the potential that's hidden inside you. And trust me," he added with a grin, "by the time we're done, you'll be far more powerful than any of the gods or goddesses of the planes."
Shinzui's face morphed into one of sheer shock. "T-training?" he stammered, his voice trembling with feigned fear. Inwardly, though, he was laughing to himself—this was all part of the grand game, a game he had mastered long ago. Still, he knew how to play his role perfectly. "Kazuki-sama, are you serious? We'll be training here for one second in Earth time, which is *infinite eons* here?"
Kazuki nodded confidently. "Exactly. An eon is a billion years, after all. We'll train for what seems like an eternity here, and yet, only a second will pass back on Earth."
Shinzui collapsed to the ground dramatically, pretending to be overwhelmed. His inner thoughts, however, were filled with amusement at the entire situation. This so-called "training" was nothing more than a new way to pass the time. "You're cruel, Kazuki-sama," he whined, his expression pitiful as he pleaded for mercy. "At least show me some sympathy."
Reika—Akiyama Reika, the Goddess of the Fantasy Plane—giggled softly, her silvery-blue hair shimmering as she approached. "Go easy on him, Kazuki-sama," she said with a playful smile. "We don't want to break him on the first day."
The other gods and goddesses chimed in, voicing their agreement. "Kazuki-sama, don't be too harsh," Haruto added, his tone light and teasing. "We don't want Takayama-kun to hate us after this."
Shinzui couldn't help but chuckle internally at the display of concern. Outwardly, though, he put on a pitiful face, pretending to be terrified of what was to come. "Is Kazuki-sama really that cruel when it comes to training?"
The gods and goddesses exchanged glances before nodding in unison. "Yes, Takayama-kun," Yui replied, her tone serious despite the playful twinkle in her eyes. "Kazuki-sama can be very strict when it comes to training."
Shinzui let out an exaggerated wail, though inwardly, he was enjoying every moment of the charade. "I'm doomed," he muttered, his expression filled with mock despair, while inside, he was eagerly anticipating the so-called "training."
Kazuki grinned, clearly relishing the moment. "Don't worry, Takayama-kun. We'll take breaks every three eons. You'll survive."
With that, Kazuki grabbed Shinzui by the arm and began dragging him toward the towering castle in the distance—the designated training grounds. The gods and goddesses followed behind, their divine forms glowing as they moved through the surreal landscape.
As they walked, Kazuki turned to Shinzui, his voice soft but filled with authority. "This place, Takayama-kun, is called the Conceptual Emptiness. It exists beyond the planes, beyond time and space as you know it. Here, we can train for as long as we need, and you will grow more powerful than you ever imagined."
Shinzui, still recovering from the shock—at least, that's the facade he wore—nodded slowly. Inside, though, he was laughing, marveling at the complexity of the narrative and enjoying every second of the gods' antics.
And so, the training in the Conceptual Emptiness began—a time-stretching, eternity-spanning journey that was, for Shinzui, just another layer of the grand story he was destined to observe and enjoy.
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