Snow fell like ash.
Silent. Relentless.
Each flake hissed when it touched the boy's skin.
Not cold.
Burning.
He pulled his cloak tighter.
The mountain loomed ahead—an ancient claw rising from the white.
Its peak disappeared into stormclouds.
They stood at the base now.
The girl checked the scroll again.The ink had begun to fade.As if the mountain didn't like to be mapped.
She didn't speak.
Neither did he.
Words were too slow now.
Only instinct remained.
They stepped into the storm.
Hours passed.
Or maybe moments.
The mountain didn't follow time.
Paths shifted when they looked away.
The wind whispered in lost languages.
More than once, the boy looked back and saw their footprints had vanished.
Erased.
Not by snow.
But by something watching.
He didn't mention it.
Neither did she.
They both felt it.
The mountain wanted them gone.
Too bad.
They kept walking.
At the fourth ridge, they found bones.
Dozens.
Old.
Not human.
Long spines. Fused fingers. Broken masks.
The girl paused.
"Kaguya's first defenders," she murmured.
He crouched. Touched the bone.
It hummed.
Low and furious.
Then cracked apart.
He stood quickly.
"I don't like this."
She nodded.
"Good. That means we're close."
By nightfall, they reached it.
A door.
Carved into the stone.
Tall as a temple gate.
Made of something blacker than onyx.
Not metal.
Not wood.
It pulsed.
He stepped forward.
The eye in his head throbbed.
The sigil on his chest lit up, burning through his shirt.
The door responded.
It opened.
No sound.
No resistance.
Just acceptance.
They entered.
Inside was not a temple.
It was a grave.
And a prison.
And something worse.
A single stair spiraled down through ice.
Blue light leaked from the walls.
Not chakra.
Memory.
Frozen memories.
He touched one.
And saw—
A woman screaming as her child was born.
The child had no eyes.
Just a spinning void in the center of its forehead.
He pulled back, breath shaking.
The girl watched him.
"You saw it?"
He nodded.
"The first bearer."
She didn't look surprised.
Instead, she started walking.
Faster now.
Urgent.
They reached the bottom.
And saw it.
A lake of glass.
Frozen solid.
And beneath the ice—
A body.
Human-shaped.
Wrapped in robes.
Face masked.
Arms outstretched.
As if dreaming beneath the world.
But what burned hardest was the eye.
Open.
Even in sleep.
Staring through the ice.
Directly at the boy.
He dropped to one knee.
The pain in his head—indescribable.
The eye inside him wanted out.
It spun wildly.
Bleeding energy.
He clutched his face, screaming.
The girl rushed forward.
Gripped his shoulder.
"No—! Stay with me—!"
But it was too late.
The lake cracked.
A thin line at first.
Then dozens.
Then a thunderous shatter.
The ice collapsed inward.
And from the depths…
The god opened his hand.
Time stopped.
The chamber stilled.
The god did not rise.
He floated.
Eyes closed.
But the boy could feel it—
The being was dreaming of him.
Not watching.
Creating.
His eye spun in sync with the one below.
And then—
It spoke.
Not out loud.
Not in chakra.
But directly into his bones.
"Return to me."
The boy screamed—
And refused.
His own eye flared.
A pulse of rejection.
Power lashed out from his body.
The lake cracked further.
The god's fingers twitched.
"You are mine."
"No," the boy growled, forcing himself to his feet.
"You gave this eye away. It's mine now."
A silence.
Then—
The god's eye dimmed.
And the lake froze again.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A warning.
Or a promise.
The body sunk back into the dark.
The girl helped him stand.
He was bleeding from his left nostril.From his ears.From his eye.
But he was standing.
Still alive.
Still him.
She looked shaken.
He asked, "What happens now?"
She didn't answer.
She just pointed.
At the walls.
Where sigils were lighting up.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Each one marking a name.
Names of people who once bore pieces of the same power.
Names being erased.
One by one.
She whispered:
"The Moon Hunters have begun the culling."
And above them…
Footsteps echoed.
Multiple.
Fast.
Masked chakra.
Wrong chakra.
The mountain had been breached.
The hunters were here.
And they weren't coming to talk.
To be continued.