Energy churning in that clearing. A mix of differing flavors that, frankly, wasn't ever suppose to mix. The near boundless, wild Ki that permeated all of things were born in this world. The ever defiant nature mortal kind, and their unwillingness to accept anything but the best for them and their loved ones. And finally, an otherworldly presence that gave off the feeling of some incomprehensible giant looking in on a few ants that dared to attract it's attention. Oppressive and demanding subservience.
Nature, Mortal and the Divine.
Or, if it was some philosopher from a long gone era.
Heaven, Earth and Man.
A trinity coming together to create the world, the reality all living beings could exist. Those not aware of the secrets of creation could never mix the three in anything that wouldn't result in a tragedy, a punishment well deserved for daring to not know one's place.
True creation was only for the eyes of Immortals.
'But the gods here love to lay claim to that.'
If anything, that itself was why Ancient Senjutsu Practitioners and religious orders never truly saw eye to eye.
Clashing, those streams of energy slammed against an invisible bell. It's chime drawing the eye to just take a peak, to lay your eyes upon the very secret of the universe and bask in it's truth.
Slow and insidious, wrapping doom in a beautiful melody.
Not even Iori would dare to become tempted, the amount of Practitioners he'd seen personal be struck down with the full force of the world for daring to do exactly that was more than enough of a warning for him. Even the monstrosity given legs thanks to his Ki and further empowered by the world itself kept it's head low.
He could even feel a gaze from beyond, massive in scale and power turn it's ancient draconic eye away.
Back in his day, all beings new to fear these secrets...but it seemed not all were educated.
The younger Shinshoku, a girl by the name of Aoki Himari, was foolish and dared to begin raising her head. Despite being bloodied and exhausted, despite being beaten without him ever lifting a finger, still had the audacity to covet secrets that not even her deity dared.
If anything, she was courting death.
Her skin would rupture, bones crumble to dust and flesh evaporate into a bloody mist. And that was if she was lucky...Or protected by the hand of her god.
That mask, which seemed so fragile in the storm of conflicting energies pulsed with a visibly blueish hue. A force from beyond, reaching through time and space, clawed through to the other side. Eyes the color of a full moon snapped open beneath it's surface. Spindly black hair erupted from it's back, waving around randomly like flailing arms. Each end positively dripping in divine energy.
That gaze rolled around in it's sockets once before those chaotic threads shot out with the force of a tidal wave. Twisting together into a sort of limb, it struck out at the ignorant girl hard enough to slam her face down into the dirt below. Air escaping from her lungs in a visible plume.
'It seemed the Kamis haven't gotten any less ruthless.'
Sure, Iori had witnessed plenty of practitioners lacking any form of remorse or respect for their underlings. That was normal, but the gods?...They were a bit different. A-lot of them didn't even see their followers as anything more than playthings to be used and tossed away when they got bored. Like how Zeus tended to treat any unfortunate mortal to have attracted his eye.
"Mortal," A voice as still as a small pond under the full moon practically sang through the air. Like a gentle breeze rustling nearby blades of grass, the chirping of crickets and the evidence of nocturnal creatures running amok in the night. Soft and resonate, imbued with a sort of hefty energy that tried it's best to bear down on their shoulders. "Do not raise your gaze. This phenomenon is not for your eyes."
Despite coughing up a sizable amount of blood, the young women still slowly picked herself up enough to fall into a full body bow as she rubbed her forehead into the ground. Her mentor following not to soon after, the audible pops of old age making itself known in the silence.
"Please, Kami-sama, have mercy!" The old women simpered, none of that noble she'd once so readily exuded. "My disciple is foolish and blind! She's ignorant of her mistake and I will take on any punishment her actions has earned her."
"Very well." Hair like tendrils stretched out from beneath the mask, it's tips trailing across her frail body. Wrapping themselves tightly at her ankles and wrists. "For daring to glance at the forbidden, you shall act as my anchor. But I am a merciful Kami. Your spirit will be left intact."
"Thank you, Tsukuyomi-sama." Kiyoko voice didn't tremble. Not even when the threads pierced her flesh and crawled underneath her skin. Not when her skin bulged, nor even when they crawled up her arms and legs before stabbing towards her spinal cord. "Your mercy knows no bounds."
"Bu-"
Aoki Himari dared to open her mouth, a cry trapped in her throat as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
"Silence girl!" The old women snapped, teeth grit in effort as things caused the skin to bulge as it traveled up her scrawny neck. Spreading out like a tree's root system, a new path being grown out in some seemingly random direction. "Do not disrespect the Kami further with your ignorance! Listen, I do not have much time left. You must flee from this place. Take my Shikigamis and leave! Report this to the Five Principal Clans immediately!"
"I can'-"
"Go!" A light grew from beneath her skin, a solid beam of moonlight piercing out her nose and mouth. Hair unspoiling itself from that tight bun and began to float in the hair. Nails dug deep into the grass, teeth bared in a primordial sneer. Lines of energy pulsating in conjunction as that mask affixed itself to her face.
In one moment, the eyes behind that blank mask was that of Ando Kiyoko, the Gūji of a minor shrine under the Shinra Clan. A grandmother figure to Takemoto Tatsuo and master to Aoki Himari. A person, a human who possessed a world all on her own. Her friends, family, lovers, acquaintances and even enemies. And in the next second, she was gone. Her eyes turned a solid white color. Like looking into a set of full moons on a chilly night.
It shouldn't have felt any different from the pitiful old woman that was once there. It was frail looking, wearing an untidy kimono that hung over their skeletal frame. A lone ivory mask in place with innumerable number of strands tied tightly around it's skull. Long black flowing through the air as though they were underwater.
The Kami, wearing the flesh and bones of one of it's followers, looked down at it's wrinkled hands. Clear dissatisfaction evident even without a face to portray it.
"What a disgusting body snatcher."