— Chapter 55: The Hollow God Descends

The sky shattered.

A thousand white threads unraveled from the heavens, weaving themselves into the shape of something ancient—something divine. A towering puppet of bone-white wood, its limbs adorned with golden veils and rusted bells. Its face was blank, a polished porcelain mask with no eyes, no mouth. Only the burning red symbol of the cult carved into its forehead.

The Hollow God of Fire had arrived.

It moved like it was underwater—slow, elegant, and wrong.

Each step crushed the air.

Each breath silenced the screams.

Hiragi, still gasping from the battle with his double, stared up at the entity.

He could barely move.

The Thousand-Faced Monk raised his arms in praise, his voice breaking into sobs.

"The festival is reborn!

Let the god devour our pain, and leave us hollow!"

Behind him, the cultists began dancing again. But this time, their movements were convulsions—spasms of flesh, bone breaking as they bent in unnatural angles.

They weren't celebrating.

They were offering themselves.

"We need to stop this," Airi shouted from the shattered shrine.

"But that thing—it's not human!"

"It's not even alive," Hiragi muttered.

He raised his blade, Void still clinging to the edge.

But before he could strike—

A low chime rang out.

One single note. Crystal clear.

The Hollow God paused.

The cultists froze mid-scream.

"You rang the bell too soon," came a calm voice.

Footsteps echoed across the burning ground.

Out from the white fog walked a figure in a black coat, hands in pockets, expression unreadable.

Ishigami Kurogami.

"I left for five minutes," he said, glancing around.

"And now you're trying to summon a puppet deity without me? Rude."

The Monk turned, furious.

"You do not belong here—"

"Incorrect," Ishigami cut him off.

He raised his hand. Symbols bloomed across the air—geometric patterns, shifting fractals, and reversed mandalas. Time seemed to tick backward for a moment.

"This isn't a god. It's a programmed illusion made real through mass hysteria and recursive belief. A lie."

His eyes flashed silver.

"Let me show you the math."

The ground beneath the cultists split open.

Their shadows rose. Not as illusions—but as truths torn from their bodies.

Ishigami activated his spell:

"Theory of Reversal Symmetry: Mind ↔ Manifestation."

Every belief, every hallucination, every delusion they had poured into the ritual—was turned against them.

Cultists began screaming as their own prayers burned them alive.

The Hollow God staggered, glitching in and out of form, as if reality itself was rejecting it.

"You made this thing real by believing it," Ishigami murmured.

"So I'll make you disbelieve until it dies."

He pointed one finger.

The Hollow God twisted violently, its limbs spasming.

"One illusion can overwrite another."

A pulse erupted.

The sky turned black again.

The Hollow God exploded into thousands of tiny wooden dolls, each laughing, crying, or whispering nonsense as they fell from the sky.

The ritual was broken.

Silence.

Only the crackle of leftover fire and the labored breathing of survivors remained.

Airi collapsed, eyes wide.

"You… reversed the god."

"I reversed the ritual," Ishigami corrected.

"The god never existed."

Hiragi looked at him.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," Ishigami said, pulling a scroll from his coat.

"There's one shrine left. The real one. And it's not done playing."

End of Chapter 55