Mist curled around Aki's feet as he stepped deeper into the hidden path, the light of dawn swallowed by thick fog. The forest grew colder, quieter—too quiet. Even the wind dared not speak here.
Hoshikiri slowed her steps. "This place… wasn't meant to be walked by mortals."
Aki glanced at her. "But it showed itself to us."
"That's what worries me."
The deeper they went, the less real the world seemed. Trees twisted impossibly, their branches curving into shapes that mirrored constellations. The very earth beneath their feet pulsed with the same rhythm as Aki's pendant.
Suddenly, the mist parted.
Before them stood a veil of shimmering energy—like a mirror of stars stretched thin across space. It rippled with each breath, and when Aki stepped close, it shimmered in response to his presence.
"This is a gate," Hoshikiri said quietly. "But not of the gods. This belongs to something older."
Aki hesitated. "Older than the gods?"
She nodded. "There were forces that wove the stars before Tsukihikari-no-Kami lit the heavens. This... is a remnant."
Aki placed a hand on the veil. His vision blurred. In an instant, he stood in a memory—one not his own.
A battlefield beneath a broken sky.
Flames devouring temples of gold.
And in the center, a figure stood, cloaked in shadow and light—a woman with eyes like starlight and a sword that pulsed with creation itself.
"Who is she?" Aki whispered.
The voice of the veil answered: She is the one the gods erased.
Aki staggered back, breath stolen by the vision.
"She knows you now," Hoshikiri said, her voice trembling.
"Who?"
"The Weaver."
The veil pulsed, and from its depths came a whisper in a forgotten tongue. Aki didn't understand the words, but his soul did. They weren't a threat.
They were a summons.
"We're not just dealing with the gods anymore," Aki said, backing away. "Something else has woken up."
Hoshikiri nodded grimly. "And she's been waiting a long, long time."
The veil shimmered once more, then vanished, leaving only the mist.
But far above, in the Celestial Court, the gods stirred with unease.
Even Tsukihikari-no-Kami frowned.
"She remembers," he whispered.
And in the deepest shadows of the realm beyond gods, the Weaver smiled.
—To be continued—