Behold, a world shrouded in crimson. Leftover fortresses of mortar, brick and stone, cursed by humanity’s wrath. The remnants of churches, still linked together by a tie of a thousand knots. All of it leads to the tree of a thousand roots, its red branches blocking out the dark clouds.
This was merely a vessel for the monumental figure of guidance for the rageful.
Sonzuku found that the collective hate and viscera innate within mankind was becoming more and more powerful with each incarnation of the world.
If too powerful, it could consume humanity entirely.
So, in order to contain it, all of it was shredded into the outline of a soul, and afterwards, placed into a vessel.
And that vessel gave birth to more souls that naturally carried bodies.
The name of that soul… is our Crimson Goddess.
[ ???????????????? ] - ?????? ?????????????????? ???? ????????!
And it was here where Ichizu stood.
It was here where his siblings lied.
It was here where he found solace.
A new place in this world… that’s why, I can’t see my brothers.
Descending down the stone steps tattered by war, he arrived at the great gate. The thing standing between this world and the world within Myrcella.
The cognitive realm.
And only through prayer from the heart of a true believer is one allowed to enter.
O Great Myrcella, shame the skin of war you were forced into.
O Great Myrcella, understand the pain you bear.
O Great Myrcella, bless me with the rage dormant in your soul and your soul only.
O Great Myrcella… allow the power of Crimson to flow through.
CRIMSON SPARKS.
[ ?????? ???????????? ???????????? ?????????????? ???????????? ?? ?????????????? ????????. ??????????????, ???????????? ?????????? ???? ???????? ??????. ]
To affirm the prayer, Ichizu clasped his hands together, the sound echoing.
Then…
??????????????-!
Here it was.
A floor made up of a thousand, transparent hexagons. The reflection of a soul that could be shattered with even the slightest touch; the sureness of white.
Myrcella on the inside, for all the grand words and tales that beckoned her as a figure beyond mankind, bespoke of a little girl that sat as lifeless as a doll. A corpse stripped of everything, absent of redemption.
A laughable sight.
A red, Crimson halo with the sharp spires of a crown appeared over her head, and she eyed the person before her.
“Ichizu.”
“Thank you, Myrcella.” He said, still amongst the shards moving in slow motion. “Will you let me… see my brothers?”
And the corpse moved, finally gaining the clothes of an empress. A gown built of an indestructible crimson far too dark. A thin, Crimson line appeared as she expanded her hands.
It bled through reality, and as droplets hit the floor, they clung onto each other, slowly but surely forming into… wombs.
Two, Crimson Wombs.
Their names… Aizo, and Minikui.
“Brothers.” Words spoken in a tone softer than heaven's softs. Going over for a closer look, he couldn’t forbid the strong emotions thriving within.
Due to Sonzuku, the potency of rage has been drastically reduced, and with the nature of Kosalahamen, its existence was something to scoff at.
Out of the billions of souls that were granted vessels, Ichizu was the only one to emerge fully grown.
And his brothers were lucky enough to become Crimson Wombs.
It was all on him.
Their souls were interlinked, meaning whatever he felt, they felt as well.
So…
“Hey, Myrcella…”
…You can only imagine the rage when his soul was tampered with by Konton.
“...Give me permission… to use the strength of my brothers.”
She could feel it. The outwardly rage that compared to her was only a mere fraction of what she felt. It lashed out of his body like a jetstream with varying axioms.
“Very well.”
Approval!
The scenery turned gray.
The spotlight first showed the untamed bastard of souls. The emperor dressed in the clothes of a fool; a black tunic with a pointy end, the sleeves showing the patches on his arms.
The spotlight then expanded, showing Dayaan, the same. “You’re not worried about the new soul?”
“Not at all.” Konton said, his grin empty. “Another thing about being my friend is that you gotta adapt.”
“Ha.” An invisible worker done with everything poured her a drink. “Is that why you let me into this place, too? It feels so… intimate.”
The Labyrinth was a transcendent place.
Yet, here he was. The cold feeling rushing through his forearms laid on the table; the smell of greed and wine; his ears picking up the sound of the woman next to him.
“Are you drunk already, old hag?”
Dayaan chuckled, taking a few gulps of her drink. How softly she placed it down.
“It's more aggravating when I’m sober.”
As the spotlight dimmed on her, in exchange growing greater for Konton.
From the dark shroud, a monster with a million eyes and mind stuck out, paying attention as the beginning of the world took center stage, and expressed himself.
“In the world’s fifth incarnation, Sonzuku preached the idea of Heaven to the souls living on the earth. He promised that those who followed the path of the virtuous would be able to be reincarnated and walk an even greater path.”
An immortal being standing on the stage, and expressing an asset of his creation.
“But, I was never acknowledged.”
And in the crowd, unseen by everything, was Konton.
Bigger than this crowd… but not given the light of day!
“The seventh incarnation, laws became the thing that decided whether you’d go to the Heavenly Court, or to the depths of Hell.”
Formless, pulling the strings of every event.
“But by the eighth incarnation, Sonzuku grew tired of me messing with this world.”
Placed inside of a mother’s womb, and born a human.
“And now, this body, fated to exist only in the space between reality and thought.”
He’d never forget that day.
The day when he snuck into the Imperial Court.
And bore witness to an old woman on the edge of death.
A preview to his fate.
“I don’t know my father. Everywhere I go, and no matter how much money I give up, no one seems to spout a word.”
Not even his mother.
“But when I find the secret behind this flesh, I’ll finally become whole again.”
Thoom!
The spotlight returned to Dayaan.
“And only then… can I feel something toward your intimacy.”
The eyes of the spectators returned into the darkness.
Dayaan wouldn’t deny feeling grossed out. That’d be a lie, and she was already drunk on that. Hungover, even.
Though, she had seen too much sober to care. “You’re a hard man to wound.”
“I guess so.”
.
.
.
.
And now, an anomaly presents itself. Shouting out, overflowing with rage.
The hate within the veins of millions.
That gaze piercing the shroud. The light of a vessel, its hope in a hopeless fight to usurp.
Konton knew it instantly. No need for acknowledgement. “Ichizu.”
And so the darkness scattered.
“In the name of Myrcella… you have to die.”
Dayaan felt the tension, her grin outrageous. “Did you enjoy my show?”
“I will deal with you later.” Ichizu disregarded her.
“Sure you don’t want to be bribed?” Dayaan asked, holding up a Golden Orb. “I pay a good pric—”
“Forget it!”
Sighing, Konton took a stand, finally acknowledging the crimson soul. “Don’t worry,” He said, “Let me… handle this.”
SNAP!
The world in a new form. An empty subway, blood stains on each of the electrical signs and yellow arrows painted on the floor. The light of dusk illuminated the battlefield.
Everything was still. No coming passengers, and certainly no train in sight. Only the breeze spoke.
Ichizu and Konton, two souls on differing ends of the tracks.
Kayaan was… gone.
“I’ve heard of you.” Ichizu said. With the sway of his hand, reality skin teared, and its blood was his to control. He formed a doubled edge blade—a product of his brother fated to be a warrior, Aizo.
“The soul that toys with the innocent hearts of children and breeds nothing but sorrow! The man who is the reason my brothers can’t grow!”
.
.
.
“Konton.”
“That’s me.” He didn’t bother to deny it, and that only added fuel to the fire.
FWOOOSSHH!
But his smile faded… as Ichizu appeared behind him in an instant, sword at the ready! Konton turned, but—
“In the name of Myrcella—”
SLASH-!
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PROCLAIMING JUSTICE, SPLENDID AND WITH HATE!
“—You will pay!”
Konton’s body in two. See? Even the transcendent could be torn apart. But Ichizu knew well that a warrior’s job was never over.
Because, right before his very eyes, the entrails spewed across the ground would reunite. Clothing and all.
And the emperor returned.
“So that’s the power of your Crimson?”
Ichizu wouldn’t bother to answer. Instead, his blade shattered into a million pieces—its shards rushing forth to the chaos soul by a single command.
Tat-tat-tat-tat!
A STORM OF SHARDS!
Konton hopped all over, reaching a dead end and being forced to swing over to the opposite side with the help of a pillar!
But upon landing, regaining his balance…
“Minikui. Now.”
Konton’s entire body… exploded in horrid fashion! That smell warned nothing of danger and decay. Clumps of meat in varying sizes paint the entire scenery in the artistic eye of Minikui.
SOUL’S TRUE ALTER!
The Innate Power of a soul based on its composition.
This power could only be accessed by the Heavenly Court Generals in the real world, but here, any soul could use its full potential.
Konton found that his body wasn’t trying everything to try and get back together.
This was because—”Minikui is the artistic one. He dreams of becoming a painter in the human world. Aizo is the honorable one. He dreams of becoming a warrior revered by all of humanity. And I—”
Unlike the Haitentions, Sonzuku didn’t bother to give the Crimson Society a special day.
They were left in the hands of Lady Hayoya—the pinnacle of kindness in this city.
“Need to preach to the world… the holiness of Mother Myrcella!”
During Ichizu’s time as a womb, the only way of communication was through the mind.
When they all sorted out exactly the kind of person they’d be, a promise was made. A Crimson Vow.
“We. Are. One.”
The power of three.
Right now, Konton’s regeneration was being slowed down by Ichizu’s own ability.
DECAY.
A remnant of him spoke. His eyes, which blinked. “So you knew how to kill me? Lemme guess, did my mother tell you?”
“Actually,” Ichizu crossed over, looking down upon the artistry of brutality. "That's correct.”
That was not good.
A bloodied hand flopped on the floor. Bones rattled, some even dancing.
“How could you live?” A question.
Lady Hayoya.
The soul of protection.
A stupid question. It doesn’t take a genius to understand why it’s all a heap of bullshit. An idea with no actual form. All talk.
“Huh?!!”
The air shifted from behind!
Konton’s leg. It… turned into a double edged blade!
Ichizu slashed it away, noting how no blood was spared. The presence returned, behind once more! Beckoning death!
Turn around, fast!
But there was no weapon to counter. Not this time, Aizo.
He came face to face with an eye that floated by itself.
Konton’s rageful eye.
Impossible.
Bloodshot and visceral!
A rage… only Ichizu could understand!
BOOOOMM!
An explosion.
Ruthless, blasting Ichizu far, far away. Ah, the sound of war! That was always the cue of death!
Unharmed and enraged, eager to bounce back with an arrow!
No no no! What, are you stupid? The “idea” of a regular in this place is absolutely ridiculous!
“EH?”
An aim perfected far too late! The direction of the world shifts upward, leaving Ichizu to fall down, down, and down. Everything was growing… longer. An endless expansion.
But standing normally, back into the flesh, was Konton. “You—”
TMP-TMP-TMP-TMP!
Headshot into action, immune to gravity. He did whatever he wanted. Belief was a sickness.
Five steps, five signals, and he became airborne; a dashing, distorting figure coming in hot with a—
—KICK!
Ichizu spiraled into the end of the line in destruction, pain gripping his spine. Mayday!
But Konton’s heyday, as always! Looking up, he arrived.
That quick?!
The body this creature carried. It was never-ending—a machine with actual passion! Long blades pierced the skin of his elbows, but Konton was numb!
Clash!
Perpendicular blades, cultivating fireworks!
And from above, the arrow that never was.
But, I didn’t—
“Shoot it?”
The distraction was ludicrous! WHAM! A patched covered fist, bouncing him off the wall again! There, a realization.
The arrow was gone.
Incomprehensible.
But no time to waste! You have to defend yourself, Ichizu! Put up the shield of your older brother, and defend as if your life depended on it.
Blades! Blades! Blades! The movement made Konton seem like a rapid dog. In fact, with that distorted smile of his, it wasn’t too far off!
This had to end soon. Luckily, at 3 o clock, there was an exit! The journey was small. Just a few steps!
“Heh!” A chuckle as the end ensued! Maybe then, Konton would hammer some manners into the head of—
BAM!
But a warrior wasn’t loud, either. Their hardest and most honest work resided in the shadows.
Ichizu manipulated his own Crimson Energy. Minimization. The weight of his soul lessened, and while that was sickening, Ichizu was able to flee! “Speed!”
Minikui’s art wasn’t just paintings, either. Design, sculpting. Only he could add a deeper meaning to the attire.
A second passed, and the door slammed.
Konton sighed, blades retracting.
Make decisions all you want.
I’m naturally indecisive.
A spacious area. A forbidden one, with tall pillars scaling up to a rusty ceiling.
This was a parking space, one that had no end. The only entrance was the exit.
And Ichizu hid behind a pillar to the east, his eagle eye peeking out from the side.
Waiting.
Waiting.
The patience of a survivor.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Not even an indication.
Crimson Energy courses through my veins.
The angrier one became, the closer they arrived to that state.
I can feel it flowing through my fingertips even if it’s faint.
The Soul’s True Essence.
I will finally be able to enact—
—”Revenge?”
What a joke. Fate seemed to always hold a twisted sense of humor. Because—why in the world is this happening again? This same position.
Konton’s voice right behind.
And Ichizu focused on his family.
“You’re too weak for that!”
A strike to his pride, but he wouldn’t give up yet! He couldn’t give up yet!
As the eldest brother, he had to be… the strongest!
“What would you know about it?!”
A backhand in vain. Konton hopped onto the wall, perched up as if he was a bat. “Look at you.”
“I see nothing but ugliness.”
“Good.” A menacing grin. “Then that’s all you need to know!”
“Don’t mock me!”
Crimson Energy formed into a great, red machine gun!
He’s gonna air the bitch out!
Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat!
Going round and round. Konton skipped happily from pillar to pillar. Like some ignorant child, he landed onto the ground, running without a care in the world.
“We doin’ a gunfight?!”
Ichizu grumbled, becoming increasingly more irritated as his bullets struck nothing.
The rounds were insane, too!
So outmatched and easygoing!
Just how could Konton do it?
Screw it!
The shots paused. The silence is a buildup for the biggest boom.
The gun transformed into… a FUCKING CANNON.
Even Konton had to stop. Finally, that grin was gone. “Holy shi—”
“DIE!”
BOOOOOMMM!
A perfect place ruined. The shattering of rusty stone, remnants of pillars crashing down like dominions. Smoke cursing the building.
Once this place was a parking lot.
It was over.
But, a voice from the smoke claimed otherwise.
“Hey—ya lost this!”
HEADSHOT, THE CANNON!
Instincts so loud that Icizhu maintained focus and dodged to the side!
Now, a humorous sight. Konton in a bowling ball position. “Huh, I’m not bad.”
“...You’re not taking me seriously?”
Words from an isolated artist.
Konton wiped the imaginary dust off his clothes. There was none. He just did it to make Ichizu feel bad.
Pity. That’s all he could muster.
“The average restaurant worker is more menacing than you.” Konton said, “The Law of Conversation Energy. You should know it, right? Energy can’t be created or destroyed. It works the same with the soul.”
Valor Discoveries: “Energy can’t be created or destroyed. In order to make sure a soul is able to expel a reasonable amount of energy, vessels are created.”
“But that’s super boring!!!” How smug. “Tell me, a Cursed Salamander in the Black Sea has been alive for eighty years. In order for it to survive, it sheds its skin and takes the body of the Whale it ate. Now, is the Whale or the Salamander stronger?”
Why is he trying to converse with me? Nevertheless, no refusal to go along with this play. “The former.”
“That’s right.” Konton knelt down. He was preparing for something.
But what?
“So… you can’t be me, ‘cause…”
The soul of Disorder.
A strong vessel, but a soul never stable.
“We’re in two different worlds.”
That statement materialized itself from above.
A perfect place remade. A ceiling reborn, but dying the moment it was fixed!
Rain, rain! A rain of debris!
A cheap trick, but Ichizu was on it.
Store the rage.
Let it anger you.
Wings of blood, along with a halo for fashion, and Ichizu was on his way!
Distance expanding, the world of blur!
But Konton wasn’t slow, fool!
Catching up, matching his pace, running with the thrill of his own extremities!
“Fast huh?”
Ichizu, graceful as an angel, angry in spirit.
That pissed Konton the hell off!
Chop! Skin departed and turned mechanical, arm warping into a FUCKING CANNON! “Tell me, how’s this?”
Taking it way too far! The Crimson Warrior dodged, dodged, and dodged.
Running with it, too! There seemed to be no kind of cooldown.
The complete disrespect for such a mighty weapon... Infuriated him!
I…
Hey! This maze bearing the might of the incomprehensible, ridden in the skin of phasmophobia! Too dreamline isn’t it? So surreal.
It angers you, Ichizu.
Or rather, it angers them.
Aizo… doesn’t fear anyone!
Minikui… can’t make art here!
And I…
Deep, discordant rage on the rise.
WON’T LET HIM DO THIS!
Cheers to the incoming climax! Here it comes! The Crimson Warrior finally reached a dead-end, leaving the opportunistic spirit to deliver the final slice!
However–the soul reaches a new height. A thousand electrical sparks manifest, a let to every single ounce of rage to be expelled.
The raising of the fist, bringing it all together, and then, it happened.
Valor’s studies: “When a soul reaches a point of high emotional intensity, its energy increases dramatically. When utilized the exact second it reaches its height… results in a “Soul-Burst”.”
Ｃ
Ｒ
Ｉ
Ｍ
Ｓ
Ｏ
Ｎ
Ｆ
Ｌ
Ａ
Ｓ
Ｈ
!!!
Ruin striking perfection once more!
Konton stopped, watching as his world unraveled. “Oh shit.”
Ha, the hell is he so calm for? The red lightning piercing his skin; the incoming blocks of debris, like some kind of ironic joke.
Soon, Crimson enveloped the entire world… and he was completely blown away.
.
.
.
.
The inside of a human body, where blood resides.
A mother’s wombs, accompanied by a thousand blood cells that floated like clouds.
Ichizu’s happy place.
“Myrcella, brothers…”
Peace.
Myrcella, staring at him from afar with a smile.
“...I did it.”
Konton was the beginning, yeah?
“I’ve destroyed the bug that haunts humanity. Now, the world can bear witness to your true soul.” Ichizu said, “And more importantly…”
Minikui, a hunchbacked beast of crimson skin wearing a robe of black, only one eye to provide a glimpse into his passion.
Aizo, a red mass with an incomprehensible face—one with thousand eyes, wielding his signature blade.
“...I can see my brothers.”
Obviously, this, is all bullshit.
Something was bubbling beneath Ichizu’s skin. It morphed him into impossible shapes with each passing second. Again, again, and again. All the while, that wretched laughter.
This… was truly a show!
And before the climax…
SNAP!
Oh!
They were back at the train station.
Ichizu was sitting on the bench, completely in shock about what he had just experienced.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Incoming from the east.
“Yo!”
Konton.
“Alright, let’s get going!”
….THE HELL WAS THIS ABOUT?!
Their destination—a wide footstep stadium with no one to witness it.
Back and forth the ball went.
“What is this?” Ichizu asked, catching the ball and throwing it back with the intention to kill.
“You lost.”
“But how?”
“You just lost.”
“How did you beat me?”
“Because you lost.”
“Fool! Answer me!”
“You lost because I won.”
“That’s not an answer!”
Crimson Energy manifesting again.
But, when Ichizu caught the ball, he paused.
Remember, he saw the true forms of his brothers, even though he didn’t know what they truly looked like. “....So, that was you?”
“I tried to interpret them the best I could with the way you showed them.” Konton chuckled, “I was able to understand Myrcella right off the bat.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“My mom talks about her a lot.”
“Makes sense, though I’m more interested in why you even bothered.” Ichizu said, throwing the ball back. “I can’t imagine someone like you caring. Was it… pity?”
Konton caught the ball, face softening. Strange, how all the ugliness no longer existed. What a soft vessel. “Sorta.” he answered, “See, I have a sister myself. You’ve probably seen her. She’s just about as crazy as me, but I don’t consider myself close to her.”
“Why not? Aren’t you siblings?”
“Yeah, siblings born from her womb.” Konton said, “You’ve never seen your brothers for real, right? Well, I don’t even know what my sister looks like. Say why were we fighting again?”
“YOU KILLED ME, THEREFORE YOU KILLED MY BROTHERS!”
“And if you killed me, you would’ve killed my sister and yourself.”
Ichizu froze.
“Luckily, I can’t die, so I guess fighting was really the right option. The souls that stand for something are usually the only ones with a spine.” Konton said. “You knew from the jump this fight was meaningless. Deep down, even if you tried to convince yourself.”
Yeah. That was the first thought Ichizu had going into the labyrinth. Too many complexities with no rendezvous. He was never going to win.
But…
“I couldn’t just… stand there and do nothing.”
“Fair.” Konton said, tossing back the ball. “...but, I would’ve enjoyed it more if we didn’t have these bodies. I could feel the depths of your rage. That’s why I didn’t end the fight right away.”
These hands of his. Trembling from the excitement from within. The urge to break out. “I’m a total virgin!” He spouted out with sarcasm, "Intimacy is just impossible in this place, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps.” Ichizu tossed the ball into the sky, forming an eclipse. “Imagining the appearance of my brothers—that’s something I never bothered doing. But, it was always in the back of my mind.”
Slow motion.
Watch as the light slowly returns as the ball descends.
“You painted that image in my head.”
Falling.
Falling.
“Myrcella was there, so that must mean it wasn’t meaningless after all. If they passed into the human world, I would’ve wanted them to look anyway they wanted. That place—it was the place where souls go after death. Crimson Heaven.”
And it landed right between them.
“Good to know… that I followed her until the end.”
People believe in something greater than themselves. Isn’t that irritating?
Nah, not to Konton.
Hiro…
“Gee, we’re best friends now?” Konton asked, “Don’t curse me with all this bullshit. You’re still weaker than me.”
“That might be so, but… now, staring at you, I can only see your mother.”
Tat-tat-tat-tattatatat—TAT!
A wavelength of anger!
“Hey, what the hell?! Just say thank you!” Konton shouted, shaking his head and scratching his head. Scratch, scratch, and scratch. A desire for this skin to fade as well as this pain. “You piece of—”
A ditch fell, showing nothing but darkness beneath.
But, he needed to calm down. Take a deep breath. The play has only just begun.
“—Yeah, same with you, I guess.” Konton said.
Snap!
Back to the train station, where a train was ready for Konton.
Ichizu wasn’t shocked this time.
“You should stop thinking about your brothers until you’re outta that shell.” Konton said, stepping closer to the last ride. “After that, come back to me, and we’ll have a do-over.”
No rage, yet his Crimson Energy was running just fine.
A smile, bearing the true, peaceful nature of Myrcella. “Very well.” He said, “Shall we guide each other to the heaven made for both of us.”
Slight discontent, and Konton was off.
Away from the light of the metro and into the dark tunnel.
Where in the window… he could only see his mother.
You… OLD HAG!!!
END!