The distant heights of Takamagahara were as boundless as Izumo, a natural paradise stretching beneath the heavens.
The world turned black as the great sun stirred the tides, and the gods came streaming down, leaving their traces behind.
Eight million calamity gods appeared, slaughtering without mercy, only for supreme authority to be stolen from beneath their noses.
The land of Izumo broke seventy thousand and thirty-three swords, forging them into twelve revered blades to protect the world.
…
Then the netherworld was swept clean, the battle drums fell silent, and all twelve cold gleams were broken;
Only raging vengeful spirits remained beneath the bright black sun, until at last two blades that bore the world’s burden were forged.
The sound of shattering ceased. Blossoms fell and bloomed again. The defeated returned to nothing, while the victors… became nothing too.
On the land once called “Izumo,” no trace remained of humans, gods, or ghosts…
