Chapter 25: The Spiral Into Madness
The abyss had let him go.
Or rather—Kuragami had devoured it.
But something inside him had cracked.
No.
It had shattered.
His body still ached, his wounds still bled, but he didn't care. Pain was just a reminder that he was still here. Still alive.
And now, the world would pay for it.
The ground beneath him was wrong—it twisted, shifting between solid and liquid, breathing like a living thing. The sky above him was no longer a sky but an endless eye, its massive pupil staring down at him, unblinking, piercing.
"Welcome back," a voice whispered, slithering through his skull.
Kuragami turned.
And there it was.
A being stood before him—a grotesque, writhing mass of flesh and bone, its body crawling with screaming faces, eyes blinking from its skin, mouths whispering forgotten truths that burned to hear.
The Gatekeeper of Madness.
It grinned, shifting its ever-changing form.
"You survived despair. But can you survive yourself?"
Kuragami laughed.
Not a normal laugh. Not the laugh of a man who found something funny.
It was the laugh of someone who had lost everything—sanity, reason, restraint.
And all that was left…
Was madness.
—
The Gatekeeper lunged, its thousand arms stretching toward him, fingers morphing into blades, tendrils, screaming mouths.
Kuragami didn't dodge.
He let the first arm pierce his shoulder—and grabbed it with his bare hands.
The Gatekeeper howled in surprise.
Kuragami's grip tightened.
Crack.
He ripped the limb off like it was nothing.
More arms lashed out.
Kuragami caught another. Crushed it. Another. Tore it apart.
His body should have been in agony.
But pain meant nothing now.
Blood dripped from his wounds, but his face was frozen in a twisted grin.
"You call yourself madness?" Kuragami murmured, his eyes glowing, his body twitching from the sheer energy surging through him.
"Then let me show you what true madness looks like."
—
Kuragami moved.
No, he appeared—his speed defying logic.
Before the Gatekeeper could react, his fingers pierced into its chest, sinking deep into the ever-shifting flesh.
And then—
He tore it open.
The Gatekeeper screamed, its insides boiling, melting under Kuragami's touch.
"You're not real," Kuragami whispered in its ear—or one of them, as its face kept shifting.
"You're just another test."
The Gatekeeper thrashed, trying to escape—but it couldn't.
Because Kuragami wasn't fighting it like a warrior.
He was fighting it like a monster.
He sank his fingers deeper, feeling the creature's core, its very essence.
And then—
He consumed it.
The Gatekeeper's form twisted, corrupted, its screams turning to gurgles, then silence.
The endless eye above them shuddered.
The world around him cracked.
And suddenly—
Kuragami was somewhere else.
—
The Throne of the Forgotten
He stood in a vast, empty chamber.
The walls dripped with blackened blood.
Chains hung from the ceiling, some still holding the mutilated remains of those who had come before him.
At the center of the room was a throne—twisted, pulsing, alive.
And sitting on it—
Him.
Another Kuragami.
His reflection, but not quite.
His double was grinning, his face twisted in madness, his eyes burning with insanity.
"Finally," the other Kuragami said, his voice a mixture of his own and something… else.
"We meet."
—
Kuragami didn't flinch.
"What the hell are you?"
The other Kuragami laughed, tilting his head.
"I am you."
"The real you."
Kuragami's eyes narrowed.
"Liar."
The double smirked.
"Am I?"
The throne groaned, the walls whispered.
"Who was it that slaughtered those gods?"
"Who was it that ripped the throats of those who stood in his way?"
"Who was it that laughed when they screamed?"
The other Kuragami leaned forward, his grin stretching too wide, his teeth too sharp.
"Do you really think you're still human?"
—
Silence.
Kuragami's fingers twitched.
Something inside him ached.
Because—
What if he was right?
What if…
This thing was truly him?
What if he had already crossed the line long ago?
"Let go." The other Kuragami whispered.
"Embrace me."
"Become what you were meant to be."
Kuragami's breath slowed.
His grip tightened.
His mind screamed.
—
And then—
He laughed.
—
The other Kuragami frowned.
Kuragami stepped forward, his body still broken, still bleeding, but his eyes burned with something beyond madness.
"You talk too much," Kuragami said.
His reflection blinked.
"You think you can scare me?" Kuragami continued, his voice now a low growl.
"I have already lost everything."
"I have already fallen."
He grabbed the reflection's throat.
"You are not my madness."
"You are just another obstacle."
—
CRACK.
The other Kuragami's body split.
He screamed—but there was no one to hear.
Kuragami tore him apart, ripping the imposter from reality, breaking the illusion into nothingness.
—
The throne collapsed.
The room shattered.
And then—
Kuragami was alone.
—
The Path Forward
He stood in complete silence.
No gods.
No demons.
No illusions.
Just him.
And in that moment—
He understood.
The gods feared him not because of his strength.
The demons hunted him not because of his power.
They feared him because he had something none of them did.
Something greater than divinity.
Something greater than destiny.
A will that could not be broken.
—
Kuragami clenched his fists.
His blood dripped to the ground.
His breath was slow. Controlled.
And then—
He smiled.
Not in joy.
Not in madness.
But in acceptance.
—
"It doesn't matter if I'm human or not."
"It doesn't matter if I'm a monster."
"Because whatever I am—"
"I will destroy them all."
—
Kuragami has conquered his own mind.
Madness is no longer his prison—it is his weapon.
And now—
The world will know his wrath.
—