The Night Before the Kurokagetsu
---20 October 2021 — 11:55 PM
Ruined Shrine, Mouth of the Eclipse Chamber
The roots above hissed in the cold wind — the banyan canopy creaked like an ancient throat clearing itself for a prayer.
The shrine floor was warm tonight — too warm, pulsing under Aadiv's knees as if the soil was alive, waiting to swallow him whole.
His eyes gleamed dull gold under the moon's broken glow — shadows carving the hollows of his cheekbones deeper than hunger ever could.
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The chain rune over his ribs pulsed steady — a brand that hummed in rhythm with the Ember caged in his chest.
Each link now a promise.
Each pulse now a drumbeat before the wound opened wide.
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> Aadiv (voice low, teeth grit):
"You showed me the Eye.
You showed me the fang.
Now show me you can hold me when I feed you everything."
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He dragged his fingers through the cracked runes on the shrine floor — fresh blood smeared into old grooves, a binding that smelled of rust and warmth.
The Eclipse Chamber's seal flickered under him — a hum that felt like roots rattling in the marrow of his spine.
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He closed his eyes — the shrine vanished.
In its place: the car again, that old lie.
Rain against the windshield. His father's voice humming.
His sister's giggle — small and bright and so painfully sweet.
The illusion pressed against his ribs — Stay, it begged, Stay, Ash-Born, stay…
Aadiv's chain rune seared through it — gold veins lashing like teeth.
The dream broke. The ghosts screamed. The car dissolved into roots and rot.
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> Inner Voice (soft thunder, approving):
"No illusions left.
Tomorrow — you bind your final chain."
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He pressed his palm to his chest — feeling the Ember pulse under bone and blood, hungry but steady.
A single drop of blood fell onto the roots under him — soaking into the old runes that led down into the Chamber's sealed maw.
His lips cracked into a grin — not cruel, not merciful, just true.
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> Aadiv (a whisper to the roots, the Voice, the wound below):
"Break me if you can.
Feed me if you dare.
Tomorrow, I take your fang — and I make the world kneel."
The Eclipse Chamber pulsed once — a low rumble that shook dirt from the shrine's old bones.
Somewhere far below, the Great Kurokagetsu gleamed in the dark — black blade veined with gold, waiting to carve its new master from the flesh of the Ash-Born.
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Aadiv lay flat on the cracked stone — eyes half-closed, breath ragged but calm.
Sleep did not come. Dreams did not dare.
The Voice stayed silent, curling around his heartbeat like a father's hand on the shoulder of a child about to die and be reborn.
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Outside, the jungle roots coiled tighter. The Eye behind the Eclipse Door blinked once — and did not shut again.
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When dawn breaks, the shrine will open its mouth.
The boy will feed the wound — or be devoured by it.
And the Great Kurokagetsu will sing its first song in centuries.
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