Blasfemy of the Gods

The Threshold trembled.

Tanaka could still feel the remnants of power from the shattered beast, but something new stirred in the air—something ancient, something wrong.

Izanagi stared at the burning symbol etched into the stone beneath them. His expression was unreadable, but his silence was telling.

Tanaka clenched his fists. “Who is it?”

The god of creation finally spoke, his voice lower than before. “One without a name.”

Tanaka frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Every god has a name.”

Izanagi’s gaze flicked to him. “Exactly.”

A gust of cold wind swept across the ruins, carrying whispers in a dozen languages. Some were familiar. Others were long dead.

The symbol in the stone pulsed.

And then—

A figure stepped through.

It did not walk. It did not emerge from shadow or light. It simply was.

Its form was shifting—a man, a woman, a beast, a mist, a god, a mortal. It did not settle on any one shape, as though existence itself was rejecting its presence.

Tanaka’s chest tightened.

He had faced monsters. Gods. Forgotten things. But this was different.

The figure spoke.

Its voice was everything and nothing.

“You have taken what is not yours.”

Tanaka exhaled sharply. The words carried weight.

Not a threat.

A fact.

Izanagi took a step forward, his eyes glowing. “He is under my protection.”

The figure tilted its head. Its form flickered, dissolving into the air, reforming again in an instant.

“A god’s protection means nothing to one who is beyond gods.”

Tanaka’s heartbeat pounded.

He had felt many things since this journey began—the rage of gods, the whispers of forgotten deities, the weight of myths long dead.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

A Presence Beyond the Divine

Tanaka’s arms burned. The symbols carved into his skin reacted violently to the presence of the Unnamed One. They shifted, rearranging, distorting—as if confused.

As if they did not know how to classify what they were seeing.

The figure stepped closer.

Tanaka gritted his teeth. “What do you want?”

It did not blink. Did not breathe. Did not move as a living thing should.

“To correct an error.”

Izanagi tensed. “He is not an error.”

The Unnamed One turned to him. And for the first time, the god of creation took a step back.

“You misunderstand, creator.” The voice was hollow. “He is not the error. He is the result of one.”

Tanaka’s breath caught. A result?

His mind raced. Every battle. Every strange ability that had awakened in him. The way he could touch divine beings, yet remain untouched by their rules.

What was he?

The Unnamed One reached out.

Tanaka’s body reacted before his mind could. Power surged through his veins. The symbols on his arms flared, but instead of protecting him—

They screamed.

A burning pain shot through his body.

His knees buckled.

His vision blurred.

And in that moment—he saw.

Not a memory.

Not a prophecy.

But a truth.

A fractured world. A thousand gods, a thousand faiths—each vying for dominance, for survival. A war that never ended. A cycle that should have broken long ago.

And in the center of it all…

Himself.

But not as he was now.

As something else.

As something impossible.

As something even the gods feared.

The vision shattered.

Tanaka gasped, the pain fading as suddenly as it had come. His body trembled, but he forced himself to his feet.

Izanagi’s voice was sharp. “Enough.”

The Unnamed One withdrew its hand.

And then, it spoke again.

“He is becoming something unnatural. Something outside the cycle. If he continues, he will not be forgotten. He will be erased.”

Tanaka swallowed hard.

He wasn’t sure what terrified him more—the warning… or the fact that he believed it.

A Choice That Was Never His

The Unnamed One stared at him for a long moment.

Then, it did something unexpected.

It smiled.

Not cruel. Not warm.

Just… knowing.

“You will find me again, Tanaka of the Forgotten.”

The wind picked up.

The figure vanished.

And just like that—the Threshold was silent once more.

Tanaka exhaled shakily. He turned to Izanagi. “What the hell was that?”

The god of creation was staring at the place where the Unnamed One had been, his jaw tight.

Then, he looked at Tanaka.

And for the first time, Izanagi looked… concerned.

“That, M’fana… was something that should not exist.”

Tanaka flexed his fingers. The pain had faded, but the weight of what had happened did not.

He was changing. Becoming something.

And he still had no idea what that meant.

But one thing was clear.

The gods were afraid of him.

And something else was watching.

The War of the Forgotten Had Only Just Begun.

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Author’s Note

Things are escalating quickly! Tanaka’s encounter with the Unnamed One has revealed that he is something beyond even the gods’ understanding. But what does that mean for him? And why does Izanagi seem so uneasy?

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