Unwritten Mythos

"Chaos Insurgency"

In the room of the Global Paranormal Alliance (GPA), a group of representatives gathered, their eyes fixed on a flickering slideshow that painted vivid images of chaos and devastation.

"Swordsmiths can turn everything into swords," one delegate remarked, a hint of skepticism lacing his tone. "What is the principle behind such a power?"

"Is now truly the time to concern ourselves with principles?" another countered, his voice low but firm. "Our country has established a specialized organization called the Kitsune to combat these monsters, yet as you've witnessed, their numbers are few—and they have already decimated thirty thousand of our forces."

"Forgive my frankness," a third voice chimed in, a note of grim realization evident. "If it had been another nation's army—"

"You would suffer an even worse fate," another delegate interjected, a sharp edge to his words.

"Ah, so what exactly did you achieve by sacrificing those thirty thousand lives?" the first delegate pressed, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"We eliminated 006," came the answer, heavy with implications.

"What is that creature?" the inquiry hung in the air, laden with tension.

A brief cough interrupted the flow of conversation. "I think it's time you publicly disclose all the information you possess."

"And what if I refuse?" the delegate shot back, defiantly.

"That would be unfortunate," the speaker replied, a calculating glint in his eyes. "We had intended to offer you military aid of a considerable nature."

"No need," came the swift retort. "We will handle these monsters ourselves."

"Is that so?" The smile that crept across the delegate's face was laced with doubt. "I can only hope your confidence is not merely blind."

...

Inside the crack space.

In a void shrouded in darkness, a multitude of flames flickered to life upon Mei's form, each spark a manifestation of the souls. The tiny star fires multiplied, converging into a conflagration that began to consume her very being.

"Uh!" A gasp escaped her lips as countless souls—echoes of consciousness—rushed into her, each one igniting her essence in a wild blaze. This unexpected transformation caught her off guard.

Mei's power was rooted in causal death, a force that wove fate's threads with lethal precision. When she cut the fatelines of her targets, those creatures succumbed to their destinies in a series of unforeseen accidents. Perhaps they would find themselves wandering into a perilous alley only to be met by a hidden pitfall, or beneath a collapsing billboard on a busy street. These accidents could range from trivial misfortunes to catastrophic disasters.

The scope of her ability was immense; if an individual managed to evade their imminent demise, the disasters that would befall them would only grow in magnitude. Hypothetically, if no earthly force could claim their life, the planet itself would rupture under the weight of fate's design. If the universe failed to deliver a fatal blow, then reality would unravel on a cosmic scale.

Yet, this remained a theoretical exploration, for Mei's powers had not reached such extremes. She could not obliterate the Earth, let alone the universe; she was still bound by the limitations of her semi-finished creation.

In her decisive act, Mei had severed the fatelines of thirty thousand lives, bestowing upon them the inevitability of causal death. The Chaos Insurgency had subsequently emerged, fulfilling the grim prophecy by extinguishing those lives. This sequence of events was expected; she had woven it into the fabric of fate itself.

What she had not foreseen, however, was the overwhelming backlash from the very souls she had claimed. Each spirit, transformed into flames, surged within her, threatening to incinerate her essence.

A flicker of fire may have posed little threat, but faced with the inferno of thirty thousand vengeful souls, Mei felt her spirit teetering on the brink of annihilation.

"I didn't expect that a semi-finished product would have this kind of negative effect,"

She couldn't help but reflect on the scale of her actions; thirty thousand souls were a heavy burden, but had she orchestrated the demise of millions, the inferno of their anger would have been enough to incinerate her essence entirely.

Though she remained alive—her physical form intact—death was a delicate duality of soul and body. A body might live, but if the soul perished, it would become but an empty vessel, devoid of purpose or will. This vulnerability was one of the shortcomings inherent in 009's immortality.

Once the searing pain in her soul subsided, Mei turned her focus back to Enko. Ironically, it was her desire for his body that had set this chain of events in motion, spiraling into chaos in ways she could scarcely have imagined. Now, with Enko finally within her grasp, her curiosity shifted elsewhere.

He had mentioned that one among their ranks possessed the ability to predict the future—a trait so rare it was almost mythical. Yet the question remained: how could she identify this person?

Her thoughts swirling, Mei refocused on Enko. With a swift motion, she pulled him toward her, allowing the flames that danced along her bone-white arms to envelop his form. In an instant, his body transformed into an ethereal soul.

"If you were to be reborn, who would you seek first?" she mused, her voice laced with intrigue. "Your parents? Or perhaps the one who holds the key to the future?"

With one hand, Mei reached into the void, tearing open a rift in reality itself. She guided Enko's soul through the crack, emerging into the sky above, where the world sprawled beneath her. The fire that had once consumed her began to dissipate, her bone-like features shrouded in mist gradually coalescing into her human form.

Her gaze swept across the earth, and within an instant, she pinpointed the direction she sought. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled Enko's soul into the expanse below, as effortlessly as tossing a baseball.

"Happy new life, Enko."

...

At night, the dilapidated streets of Beiling City lay cloaked in shadows. 009 Splitter flexed his tendons, the movement almost graceful until the serpent coiled around his neck tightened its grip, cutting off his head with a sudden thump. The severed head landed on the ground, shattering into twelve stones.

In an instant, Splitter's body sprouted a new head, unfazed by the grotesque spectacle. "Strange," he mused, "the last time I split out, I lost that box of candies somewhere around here. How could I not find them?"

He bent down to retrieve the scattered stones when a gun suddenly pressed against his temple. He looked up, spotting a figure clad in a coat, one eye glimmering ominously in the dim light.

Splitter chuckled. "Who are you, Kitsune?"

Without hesitation, the man pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The bullet tore through Splitter's head, yet moments later, it was forcibly expelled from his skull, clattering harmlessly to the ground. "More or less rude," he remarked, shaking off the encounter.

Unperturbed by the resurrection, the man knelt to pick up one of the monkey-patterned stones. He leveled it at Splitter, his voice dripping with irony. "Monkey."

As he uttered the word, a beam of light shot from the stone, striking Splitter and transforming him into a monkey.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on the man; the very artifacts meant to combat monsters had now fallen into their hands, empowering them.

Splitter, now in the form of a monkey, squirmed in surprise. He attempted to flee, only to be caught firmly by the man.

"If I turn you into a monkey, can you still escape death? I'm very curious," the man mused, his grip unyielding.

Hatred flared in Splitter's tiny eyes. In a desperate attempt, he flicked his fingers and launched a black arrow toward the man.

The arrow pierced through the man's chest, but to Splitter's shock, the body became transparent, allowing the arrow to pass right through without resistance.

"Small tricks are amusing," the man said, a smirk dancing on his lips, "but unfortunately, they won't be of much use to me."