The searing, white-hot agony of Kagutsuchi's divine flame consumed Kenjiro's senses. He was burning, his very essence being unmade by the power of a god. He could feel his life slipping away, his consciousness fading into a roaring inferno. But just as the darkness threatened to claim him, the pain suddenly stopped. The fire vanished. He looked down and saw his body, which had been charring and blackening, dissolve into a pool of clear, cool water that splashed harmlessly onto the stone floor.
The opulent, sunlit bedchamber around Jōmitsu Ren shimmered and vanished. The world went cold. He was somewhere else, standing on a vast, featureless plain of crystalline ice under a black, starless sky. The air was so cold it felt like shards of glass in his lungs. He looked around, a flicker of genuine fear in his ancient, weary eyes. Kagutsuchi was gone. He was alone.
