In one of the archmage estates, a spiky-haired boy sat atop the pinky fingertip of said hand statue, raising a knee. Kakunō Kanazuchi (金槌 格納), sixteen-years-old, observed the battlefield.

His rune-engraved black haori swayed with the wind, never to fall. Its gold oak leaves expressed family roots, not that it wasn’t uncommon. Yet, he endeared it enough to show more via his half-and-half shirt. The kanji for charcoal (木炭) on the red and rainwater (雨水) for the blue gave him immense pride and confidence. Bravery was his smirk.

In his first time on Pantaiyanilam, modernity became a guilty pleasure. Blue jeans and geta sandals were the perfect combinations. He corrected each and crossed his legs.

“Man, it’s getting hectic down there,” he gazed around. “I’d rather not intervene… doesn’t seem to be the right time.” He turned to the statue’s middle fingertip. Not to my man, however.

“Kakunō! Have you seen the blood god anywhere?” Kenkō Kusabana (草花 健康) looked up from below. Being pointed to her search, she sighed. “Not again. Tell him to be quick. We gotta shop for supplies.”

His eyes drooped in unimpressed indifference. “Doesn’t sound like you’ll buy ‘supplies’ to me, ginger short-stuff.”

Even for a young adult woman, Kenkō had a literally underwhelming stature: 148 cm. Her light skin, green eyes, and orange pigtails solidified it more. She even had freckles on her cheeks, but she meant business every time. People saw this by her crimson suit-and-tie worn like a cape. In reality, she implied the pink cap sleeve shirt underneath.

Despite stereotypes, she genuinely loved ‘cute.’ The shirt expressed that more with its cartoon crane doctor holding a stethoscope—and a speech bubble in vertical Japanese: “It’s alright, hang in there.” (大丈夫、頑張れ。). If Kakunō went brave via his roots, quirkiness could also be a healthy identity. She had no regrets, ignoring every naysayer.

Still, she meant business, never to tolerate her features mocked. Flustered and beyond, several veins popped within. “Urgh! Shut up, country boy!” she pointed with a shaky finger. “So what if I buy whatever the hell I want!? It doesn’t mean I don’t care about our needs!

“Why do you two always think I’m selfish when I’ve been the only one who’s—” She heard her other comrade laugh. Her annoyance faded, knowing the inevitable.

Hokori Udemaeno (腕前乃 誇利). Twenty-five years old, reborn human. The de facto strongest mage in Coelestis, gaining nationwide fame three years ago. Many noted his look as that of a yakuza boss, only younger. His warm beige tone and a vertical scar on his neck’s center contributed to the notion.

He wore a loose white T-shirt every day. In front lay a peace sign inside a red ‘no’ symbol. Yet the back had a rhinoceros beetle atop the “nirvana” kanji (涅槃). Perhaps he loved duality, seeing the monk beads on his wrists, ankles, and neck. Each even showed a yin-yang pendant. They’d be right if only half the picture, and he chuckled every time.

He did so twice, grinning wider. “How’s five minutes sound, Kenkō?” he corrected his circular shades. “I’d stay longer, tho. Cuz these things seem a lot of fun.”

Her eyes rolled. “Whatever…” she walked away, “I just want the malls to open again.”

Kakunō chuckled next. “Oh, he’ll stay longer, alright. He has earpods again.”

Music in battle, one of his favorite routines and the usual being Kanye West’s “Touch The Sky.” He swiped his fingers up, opening the multifaceted holo-interface of the Every Hub. But he only cared for one app in the wireless service: WormLink. It housed earthly multimedia in spades, albeit twenty years late.

He pulled his hat back, which returned like a magnet. The song’s cymbal went soft, yet the opposite for his leap below. He grinned worth a thousand more, all teeth and doing flips. The wind would’ve been like knives on the eyes, but he never blinked. With the targets now within meters, he screamed in joy. Beneath his feet, the city pavement rippled into barren dirt.

The dwellbeasts charged at once, but the second verse began with an uppercut. Drenched in their demise, Hokori flailed a spine, head intact. Round and round, it became a javelin that skewered seven more heads. “Aight, y’all! Time for more fun!” his fists clenched upon the third verse. Six beats went with a left and right barrage and six more.

Another jab had given the whole southside a pitch dark ‘rain.’ But he now stood on a desert wasteland. His lone stomps crumbled hotels thirty meters away. Chuckling, he pointed at the imperial mages present. “Keep up the pace, Potts.” He leaped again unto more fun.

The other two imperials on the eastside saw the sun cast a shadow. “Oh, shit. It’s him!” one turned away. They opened runic portals to the north.

Hokori hurled a dwellbeast by the face onto a skyscraper. Right through six more, the storm of debris had the rest sweat bullets, if any. They tried to thunderclap their way out of it, but the fourth verse went with a double fist. Even onto one dwellbeast, the wind stripped all from muscle and bone. Resuming his dash, he sang the “let’s take ’em high” lyric in every glee.

In perfect timing, the dust settled on the eastside. Only the borders remained tall, yet a dozen more hordes charged toward Hokori. Just a few more fun, then more dust flowed. He stood for a breather and checked his olive bucket hat: Lovely War, it said in bold white.

It’d never fall off like his grin, so the runes were a fashion bonus. He did express duality, but not on tan cargo shorts and hiking sandals. “It’s hella funny. Ain’t it, bruh?” he looked down at the corpse he sat on. “None of my official statements end the fan theories.”

He stretched and yawned, paused the song, and leaped onto the westside. Out of sheer habit, he always held his hat down.

On the northside, Danielle was still busy alongside four imperials. Behind her, the other two exited from their portals. “Ms. Elfmann,” one kneeled. “Hokori’s on the field.”

“Oh, no…” her eyes lowered. “should’ve told that guy where Feuer was.” She looked beyond the horizon, uncertain.

“What shall we do, ma’am?”

“Nothing,” she turned. “We stay here. Maybe killed 90% of these things already. It’ll never be a joke to say that even if the world and the Gods sought to stop him, they’ll all perish.”

At the westside, the dwellbeast flood trickled into a smaller stream. But they had one more ace against Feuer, fused as the mound grew. Under one roof of thirty meters tall, its roars had powdered concrete with ease. He held his shoulder and limped behind a wall. Damn it! He couldn’t move his right, panting. I’ve no other choice now. But even if bedridden after, it must show some worth!

He returned to the scene, carrying his weight with one leg. In a deep breath, a red aura whirled around him. Zenith Corpus could be fatal now but better than zero resolves. However, he failed to show any a second later. The enormous dwellbeast fell on its back, howling. Some fused out of the body upon its earth-shaking crash. Another second in, beyond notice, the human calamity stood before him.

“Hey, y’all!” Hokori waved at the monsters, now all eyes on him. “Can ya show me fun for three more minutes? If you can’t, well….” He chuckled, seeing red despite the wrong color.

“Y’all just be third-rate trash.”

Feuer limped and panted closer. “I’ve… I’ve as much respect for you, your strength, and your title as I have for his majesty. But as earthly people say: you’re pissing me off.” Even angered, he remained soft-spoken.

“Aw, shucks,” he turned. “Never knew ya loved me that much. Too bad ya ain’t my type.” He shrugged, eyes closed and a smirk.

While still in composure, a few veins had popped. “I’d not expressed my feelings that way, simpleton!”

Hokori humored himself for a minute. Maybe a lie, or it wasn’t. He even asked for his favorite menu. But upon another quip, he failed to see the mansion-sized uppercut. His body rolled forty times back into the eastside. The recovered dwellbeast roared again.

A skyscraper crumbled onto him. Two seconds in, another chuckle from the rubble. “Splendid,” he spoke Japanese, “Alright. Now it’s my turn.” After three blinding strides and a jump, his uppercut pureed its head. The monster hadn’t even used its signature ability. Yet the same went for its torso upon a downward punch.

The remaining dwellbeasts scattered across the area only to meet more fists and kicks. A literal earth-shaking onslaught hopped to and fro. Feuer cast an igneous dome around himself, still feeling the winds. Canceling the shield after an hour, he sighed for his longtime comrade.

Danielle and the others teleported to their location. All areas had cleared except the one they stood. Feuer noticed a runic circle far away at the border, previously obscured by the overflowing mass.

“Looks like that’s the source of the invasion,” Danielle pointed.

“Oh, fuck yeah! More fun time!” Hokori sprinted toward the portal. “Woooooooooh!”

Another vein popped within Feuer. “No! Get back here and listen to me, you insolent—”

Danielle held his left shoulder. “Let him do what he wants. We gotta tell Harald it’s over. Once Hokori makes up his mind, only an immovable object can interfere. I doubt such a thing even exists.”

He grunted softly and agreed to ride on her piano. Meanwhile, the portal led to an open plain outside the city. Hokori saw six fused giant dwellbeasts in the distance.

He shook his head and sighed. “I know Imma be disappointed with weak turds like you. Still, y’all gotta die!” He repeated ‘Touch The Sky’ on the Every Hub.

In the throne room, Harald smiled at the great news. “Excellent. Now, all we need is this.” He snapped his fingers. The runes on the bronze rings permeated the entire city. Naraka (नरक) would never be pleased about his father’s ‘confiscated’ war bounty. But he smiled upon the surveillance. The roads, infrastructure, and even plant life, Coelestis rewound unscathed once more.

The king sat on his throne. “Sadly, I’ve yet to find a better solution. It’s a piece of demon technology lost through time. One use and this machine take two weeks to work again. Still, it’s better than what we did before.

He turned to the Novus delegates’ de facto strongest member. “Feuer, I finally chose our Vetusian delegates last night. You should be happy. An old friend awaits.”

He walked closer. “Your majesty… Do you not mean?”

“Yes, I do. She is now with us.”

The citizens came out of the bunkers with smiles and stretches. For over a mega annum, catastrophes were the norm. They continued their daily lives, not a panic aloud.

In the Coelestis estate, Kakunō, still on the stone fingertip, squinted beyond the horizon. “Hey, dude! Take a look at this!” he turned his head below.

Don’t call me that, Kenkō jumped atop the ring fingertip. “Oh… we’ve got Vetus tourists coming in.” She squinted more, hand over the forehead. “No, wait. That carriage’s way too fancy for regulars. Could they be?”

“Oh, sweet!” he smiled. “They’ll be Hokori’s next prey. I still remember how Clovis and pals reacted.” He sighed with eyes relaxed, fist over his cheek. What golden faces.

Far away, Yukino had fixed her mother’s hairdo a sixth time. Tokino giggled, head lowered. “You know, honey. People say I’m ten times prettier because of your braids. Are they wrong?”

“Of course they are! It makes you a million times prettier!” Her arms raised high. Moments later, steel-feathered cranes flew past their ride. “Mama, Papa! Look!” she smiled and pointed at the distance.

Tokino gasped, mouth covered. “By the Gods… it’s gorgeous.”

For the first time in the otherworld, Haruto felt a connection. “Say,” he looked down at his daughter. “wanna check out the city before meeting their king?”

“Really!?” she smiled enough for a yearlong fortune.

“Anything for you, honey,” Tokino patted her head, making her hug them in loud joy.

As the family entered the City of Gods, the story truly began. A grinning devil eyed them far outside the plains.