The deeper reaches of the Forest of Death had always been a place of predatory silence but the air here had curdled into something far more oppressive as the ritual approached its zenith. At the very heart of the woodland where the five pillars of chakra had finally converged the canopy was torn open to reveal a sky choked with jagged and roiling energy that looked like a bruise upon the heavens. The convergence point was a singular and massive pillar of light that hummed with enough power to vibrate the teeth of any living creature within a mile and surrounding the base of this central anchor was a much smaller and tighter alchemical circle. This inner circle did not shimmer with the colors of a prism but was instead a void of absolute and crushing blackness that seemed to drink the light around it. The lines of the geometry were so stark and dark that they were physically painful to look upon and they created a sharp visual ache in the minds of any who stared too long at the forbidden symbols. This was the summoning circle and the prison designed with the singular purpose of binding the Dragon of Konoha within a cage of shadow and ancient geometry large enough to hold its full and terrible scale.
At the precise geometric center of this roaring pillar of chakra hung a single and unsettling object that took the shape of a human heart. While its form was recognizable the texture and density of the organ eluded natural explanation as if it were a piece of the world that did not belong to the living. The heart beat with a weak and stuttering rhythm that seemed to struggle against the weight of the air and suspended around it were hundreds of incredibly thin gold and silver strings that appeared to warp and roll through the void like living things. These threads were not attached to any physical anchor and instead they were held in place by the raw pressure of the chakra pillar moving with a fluid and terrifying grace as they occasionally pierced through the muscle of the organ like sewing thread to stitch it into the very fabric of the ritual. The gold and silver shimmered in sharp contrast to the painful blackness of the circle and they created a delicate and horrifying web that anchored the weakly pulsing centerpiece at the eye of the storm.
Standing at six distinct points around the perimeter of this black circle were six darkly robed figures who moved in a synchronized and eerie harmony as they prepared for the final manifestation. Five of these figures formed a pentagram of support with their fingers blurring through a relentless sequence of handseals while the sixth figure who stood at the head was clearly the architect of this catastrophe. The peace of the clearing was broken as the special animals began to emerge from the darkness of the trees to join their respective masters and though the work was dire each master offered a silent and fleeting acknowledgment to their companion as they arrived.
The snake was the first to arrive as he slithered across the scorched earth with a calm and satisfied grace toward the first robed figure on the western edge. Without a word the master lowered his shoulder and the serpent began to coil up the man’s frame to rest with a heavy and familiar comfort around his neck and arm. The master adjusted his stance to accommodate the shifting weight and the two of them became a single and motionless silhouette of scales and dark fabric.
Next came the armored chicken and her golden plates clinked softly in the unnatural wind as she marched toward the second robed figure at the eastern point. She did not seek affection but instead moved to stand stoically beside her master with her eyes focused forward as if she were a soldier standing at military attention. The master acknowledged her presence with a sharp and disciplined nod before returning his total focus to the blurring speed of his handseals.
The massive toad followed and its presence was heralded by the sharp sound of stone splitting under its feet because its weight was impossibly dense. As it reached the southern position the third master reached out with his foot to give the creature a quick and practiced scratch along its rugged side. The toad let out a low and vibrating croak that sounded like a groan of deep appreciation and the master’s posture relaxed for a split second before the weight of the ritual pulled him back into the rhythm.
The shadow crow descended from the canopy in a slow and silent dive and left a trail of suffocating smoke in the air before landing on the shoulder of the fourth robed figure to the north. Once settled the bird leaned in to nuzzle its beak affectionately against the master’s neck and the figure leaned slightly into the touch as if drawing strength from the small creature before his hands resumed their frantic weaving of shadows.
The Fox Mother stepped into the light with a wary and elegant trot as she made her way to the fifth robed figure. In a display of casual mastery the robed man stopped his handseals with one hand while the other continued the complex motions without breaking the flow. He reached down to give the fox a small and tender scratch behind the ear and the Fox Mother leaned into the gesture before the master’s hand returned to the ritual to lock the pentagram into place.
Finally the leader stood at the apex of the circle and although his personal spirit animal the Rabbit remained as a sentinel at the forest border its presence was felt here as a cold and lingering weight. None of the animals felt insulted or slighted by the lack of attention from the others because they were focused purely on the strangely dense heart and the six masters and their animals were now fully synchronized.
The leader's voice rose above the low hum of the forest and the heavy thrumming of the chakra pillar as his chanting reached a jagged and final peak. He threw his arms wide and his fingers locked into a final and impossible seal while his voice cracked like a whip across the clearing with a single and resonating word of command spoken in that ancient and tectonic tongue.
"Khor-shul-thra!" he bellowed and the sound seemed to rip through the space between the trees as if the language itself were too heavy for the world of the living to hold without breaking.
At the sound of his voice the hundreds of gold and silver threads suddenly snapped taut with a collective sound like a thousand breaking violin strings. They bit deep into the dense and unfamiliar tissue of the suspended heart and the weak and stuttering pulse of the organ was suddenly forced into a frantic and violent rhythm that echoed the heartbeat of a cornered beast. The blackness of the inner circle surged upward as the gold and silver strings began to glow with a blinding and celestial heat that turned the metal white. The threads did not just hold the heart but began to pull and stretch the organ toward the six corners of the circle with a terrifying and mechanical precision. It was as if the small and dense organ were a tiny anchor being used to drag a massive and ancient spirit through a hole in the fabric of reality itself.
Ooc: please don’t join this one (unless you are Nao…), it’s just a side reveal topic to add urgency to the other topic!
At the precise geometric center of this roaring pillar of chakra hung a single and unsettling object that took the shape of a human heart. While its form was recognizable the texture and density of the organ eluded natural explanation as if it were a piece of the world that did not belong to the living. The heart beat with a weak and stuttering rhythm that seemed to struggle against the weight of the air and suspended around it were hundreds of incredibly thin gold and silver strings that appeared to warp and roll through the void like living things. These threads were not attached to any physical anchor and instead they were held in place by the raw pressure of the chakra pillar moving with a fluid and terrifying grace as they occasionally pierced through the muscle of the organ like sewing thread to stitch it into the very fabric of the ritual. The gold and silver shimmered in sharp contrast to the painful blackness of the circle and they created a delicate and horrifying web that anchored the weakly pulsing centerpiece at the eye of the storm.
Standing at six distinct points around the perimeter of this black circle were six darkly robed figures who moved in a synchronized and eerie harmony as they prepared for the final manifestation. Five of these figures formed a pentagram of support with their fingers blurring through a relentless sequence of handseals while the sixth figure who stood at the head was clearly the architect of this catastrophe. The peace of the clearing was broken as the special animals began to emerge from the darkness of the trees to join their respective masters and though the work was dire each master offered a silent and fleeting acknowledgment to their companion as they arrived.
The snake was the first to arrive as he slithered across the scorched earth with a calm and satisfied grace toward the first robed figure on the western edge. Without a word the master lowered his shoulder and the serpent began to coil up the man’s frame to rest with a heavy and familiar comfort around his neck and arm. The master adjusted his stance to accommodate the shifting weight and the two of them became a single and motionless silhouette of scales and dark fabric.
Next came the armored chicken and her golden plates clinked softly in the unnatural wind as she marched toward the second robed figure at the eastern point. She did not seek affection but instead moved to stand stoically beside her master with her eyes focused forward as if she were a soldier standing at military attention. The master acknowledged her presence with a sharp and disciplined nod before returning his total focus to the blurring speed of his handseals.
The massive toad followed and its presence was heralded by the sharp sound of stone splitting under its feet because its weight was impossibly dense. As it reached the southern position the third master reached out with his foot to give the creature a quick and practiced scratch along its rugged side. The toad let out a low and vibrating croak that sounded like a groan of deep appreciation and the master’s posture relaxed for a split second before the weight of the ritual pulled him back into the rhythm.
The shadow crow descended from the canopy in a slow and silent dive and left a trail of suffocating smoke in the air before landing on the shoulder of the fourth robed figure to the north. Once settled the bird leaned in to nuzzle its beak affectionately against the master’s neck and the figure leaned slightly into the touch as if drawing strength from the small creature before his hands resumed their frantic weaving of shadows.
The Fox Mother stepped into the light with a wary and elegant trot as she made her way to the fifth robed figure. In a display of casual mastery the robed man stopped his handseals with one hand while the other continued the complex motions without breaking the flow. He reached down to give the fox a small and tender scratch behind the ear and the Fox Mother leaned into the gesture before the master’s hand returned to the ritual to lock the pentagram into place.
Finally the leader stood at the apex of the circle and although his personal spirit animal the Rabbit remained as a sentinel at the forest border its presence was felt here as a cold and lingering weight. None of the animals felt insulted or slighted by the lack of attention from the others because they were focused purely on the strangely dense heart and the six masters and their animals were now fully synchronized.
The leader's voice rose above the low hum of the forest and the heavy thrumming of the chakra pillar as his chanting reached a jagged and final peak. He threw his arms wide and his fingers locked into a final and impossible seal while his voice cracked like a whip across the clearing with a single and resonating word of command spoken in that ancient and tectonic tongue.
"Khor-shul-thra!" he bellowed and the sound seemed to rip through the space between the trees as if the language itself were too heavy for the world of the living to hold without breaking.
At the sound of his voice the hundreds of gold and silver threads suddenly snapped taut with a collective sound like a thousand breaking violin strings. They bit deep into the dense and unfamiliar tissue of the suspended heart and the weak and stuttering pulse of the organ was suddenly forced into a frantic and violent rhythm that echoed the heartbeat of a cornered beast. The blackness of the inner circle surged upward as the gold and silver strings began to glow with a blinding and celestial heat that turned the metal white. The threads did not just hold the heart but began to pull and stretch the organ toward the six corners of the circle with a terrifying and mechanical precision. It was as if the small and dense organ were a tiny anchor being used to drag a massive and ancient spirit through a hole in the fabric of reality itself.
Ooc: please don’t join this one (unless you are Nao…), it’s just a side reveal topic to add urgency to the other topic!
