Lord-Campione
patreon
Chapter no.49: The Day of The Black Sun
🕑 Added 2024-11-21 00:38:04 +0000 UTCItsuki Tanaka was the kind of man you passed on the street without noticing. A man whose existence blended into the crowds of Tokyo like smoke in the air—always there, but never seen. He wasn’t important. He wasn’t anyone. And he had known this for as long as he could remember.
At 33, Itsuki’s life had become a suffocating cycle of monotony and disappointment. He worked in a small, cramped office for a boss who seemed to delight in breaking people down, piece by piece. The other employees mocked him behind his back, calling him a “spineless yes-man.” He wasn’t married—he didn’t even have friends. His parents, always distant, had died years ago, leaving behind nothing but the bitter echo of their constant disappointment.
“You should’ve been more ambitious, Itsuki.”
“Why don’t you find a better job, like your cousins?”
“Why are you so weak?”
He could still hear their voices, long after they were gone.
It wasn’t that Itsuki didn’t have desires. He did. He wanted to speak back to his boss, to shout at him and call him a bastard. He wanted to tell the coworkers who mocked him that they were useless wastes of space. He wanted to grab the salaryman who shoved past him on the train without a word and throw him to the ground. But Itsuki never did any of those things. He swallowed his anger, his frustration, his desperation.
Because what would it matter? What difference would it make?
The world didn’t care about men like him. Men who sat quietly at their desks, doing what they were told. Men who bowed deeply and apologized when yelled at. Men who said “excuse me” when someone else bumped into them. Men who lived, unnoticed, until they died just as quietly.
---
That morning, Itsuki woke up in his tiny apartment and stared at the ceiling for a long time before dragging himself out of bed. It was New Year’s Day, but that didn’t mean anything to him. He had no one to celebrate with, no family to visit, no resolutions to make. The only thing waiting for him was work.
His boss, Mr. Hayakawa, had demanded he come in to finish an overdue report. It didn’t matter that the office was closed. Hayakawa didn’t care about holidays, or weekends, or people.
“Tanaka, you’re pathetic,” he’d said the day before. “But at least you’re obedient. Be in the office at 8 sharp. Don’t make me regret keeping you around.”
Itsuki didn’t argue. He never argued.
By the time he left work that evening, his head was pounding from hours of squinting at spreadsheets under the harsh fluorescent lights. His stomach growled—he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but he was too tired to stop for food. He just wanted to go home.
The train ride was unbearable. Crowded and loud, with groups of students and families laughing and chatting, their excitement grating against his nerves.
“Did you hear about the eclipse?” one student said, holding up their phone. “They’re calling it the Black Sun!”
“I read it’s the first time it’s happened in centuries,” another chimed in. “It’s supposed to be visible tonight!”
Itsuki clenched his fists. The noise was suffocating.
When Itsuki finally stepped off the train and onto the street, he thought he’d feel relief. But the chatter about the eclipse followed him like an unwelcome shadow.
“Look at the sky!”
“It’s starting!”
“What a way to start the year, huh?”
His temples throbbed, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second. He quickened his pace, trying to tune it out, but the voices only seemed to grow louder, pressing in on him from all sides, like a tide threatening to pull him under.
“Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the noise.
The eclipse was beginning. The sun, partially covered by the moon, glowed faintly above the city, its light dim and eerie. People stood in clusters, pointing and talking, their excitement buzzing like a swarm of flies.
“Shut up,” Itsuki said again, louder this time. His voice cracked with the strain of years spent holding himself back, swallowing his words.
No one noticed him.
“SHUT UP!”
The shout burst out of him, raw and unrestrained, silencing the crowd around him. People turned to stare, startled by the sudden outburst. A few exchanged nervous glances, unsure whether to laugh or recoil. For a moment, Itsuki felt vindicated. He had finally raised his voice. He had finally been noticed.
But the vindication was short-lived.
Because then he saw it.
The eclipse was no longer just an eclipse. The black circle in the sky began to shift. The fiery edges curled inward, twisting and folding like something alive. It wasn’t a sun and moon at all—it was an eye. Enormous, impossibly vast, gazing down at the world with an intensity that froze Itsuki where he stood.
The eye blinked.
Itsuki’s breath caught in his throat, his legs weakening beneath him. He had seen a lot of things in his life—most of them dull and meaningless—but this was something else. This was alive. He felt it staring not just at him, but through him. It didn’t just see his body; it saw everything he was.
It saw his fears, his anger, his unspoken desires. Every thought he had ever buried. Every scream he had ever swallowed. Every shred of rage he had forced himself to smother.
The pressure in his head grew unbearable, and he fell to his knees. Around him, the world began to blur, the city fading into a distorted haze. He clutched his head, desperate to push out the weight of the eye’s gaze, but it only grew heavier.
And then, without warning, the eye spoke.
It wasn’t a voice, not exactly. It was a feeling. A wave of sensation that rippled through his mind, its meaning undeniable.
Fall.
The word reverberated through him, a command wrapped in a promise. He felt the weight of it settle deep in his chest, pulling him down like gravity. Let go, the voice urged. Fall, and I will give you what you want.
The world around him faded entirely, and suddenly he was standing in a vast, empty void. The ground beneath him was smooth and black, like polished obsidian, reflecting his trembling form.
And then he saw it.
A figure appeared before him—a perfect copy of himself, but different. This Itsuki was taller, broader, his posture straight and confident. He wore a sharp suit that seemed to glimmer in the dim light, and his eyes gleamed with power.
“This is what you could be,” the doppelganger said, its voice smooth and alluring. It sounded like Itsuki, but richer, fuller, like the voice of a man who commanded attention wherever he went.
“Who… what are you?” Itsuki stammered, his voice weak and shaking.
“I’m you,” the figure replied, smiling. “The you you’ve always wanted to be. The you you were meant to be. All you have to do is stop holding back. Stop suppressing yourself. Let go of your fear, your doubt, your control. Let me in.”
Itsuki backed away, shaking his head. “No, I—”
“You’ve been ignored your whole life,” the figure interrupted, stepping closer. “By everyone. Your parents, your coworkers, your boss. Even strangers on the street. They look at you, and they see nothing. They don’t hear you, because to them, you don’t exist.”
The words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. His father’s harsh voice rang in his ears, telling him he was weak, a disappointment. His mother’s silent disapproval, the way she never looked at him with pride. His boss, barking orders and insults as though Itsuki were less than human.
“And what did you do?” the figure continued, its voice growing sharper. “Nothing. You bowed. You apologized. You stayed quiet. Because that’s what you were taught to do. Be quiet. Be invisible.”
Itsuki’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. His anger simmered just below the surface, raw and dangerous.
“But it doesn’t have to be that way,” the doppelganger said, extending a hand. “I can change that. I can make them see you. Hear you. Fear you. All you have to do is let me in. Let go, Itsuki. Fall.”
Itsuki hesitated, his body trembling.
They all deserve to see me. The thought flashed through his mind, unbidden but undeniable. It was a seed that had always been there, buried deep, waiting to bloom. He had wanted to be seen his whole life. Not as a failure, not as a shadow, but as something. And now, this… thing, this version of himself, was offering him the chance.
“You’re lying,” Itsuki said, his voice weak, uncertain. “You don’t care about me. You just want to use me.”
The doppelganger chuckled softly, tilting its head. “Of course I want to use you. But don’t pretend you don’t want to use me, too. Isn’t that why you’re still standing here? You want this, Itsuki. You want to stop being invisible. You want them to look at you and know they can never ignore you again.”
Itsuki shook his head, taking another step back. “This… this isn’t right. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
The doppelganger’s expression shifted, its smile fading into something colder, sharper. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to yourself. You’ve dreamed of hurting them. Your father. Your boss. The world that made you feel so small. You’ve imagined it, haven’t you? Tearing them down. Making them suffer.”
“No,” Itsuki whispered, his voice cracking. “That’s not… that’s not who I am.”
“Then who are you?” the figure snapped, its voice ringing out like a thunderclap in the void. “A nobody? A spineless yes-man? A man who goes home every night to an empty apartment and stares at the ceiling, wishing for a life he’ll never have?” The figure’s hand dropped to its side as it stepped closer, its golden eyes boring into Itsuki’s. “You think you’re better than this? That you’re better than me? You’re not. I’m you. And we both know what you want.”
Itsuki’s knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, his head in his hands. The pressure in his chest was unbearable, like a dam about to burst. He thought of every time he had swallowed his anger, every time he had forced himself to smile and bow and apologize. He thought of every word he had wanted to scream but had kept locked inside. It was all still there, festering, clawing at him from the inside out.
“I just… I just wanted to be happy,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I just wanted to matter.”
“And you will,” the doppelganger said, crouching down in front of him. Its voice was softer now, almost soothing. “You’ll matter more than anyone. They’ll see you, Itsuki. They’ll hear you. They’ll fear you. All you have to do is let go. Stop fighting. Stop holding on to the person you think you should be. Fall.”
The word echoed through the void, reverberating in his chest. Fall. It was so simple. So easy. He didn’t have to fight anymore. He didn’t have to be quiet. He didn’t have to be invisible.
Slowly, Itsuki raised his head. The doppelganger extended its hand again, its smile returning, warm and inviting. For a long moment, Itsuki stared at it, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He thought of his father’s face, stern and unyielding. His mother’s cold indifference. His boss’s sneer. His coworkers’ laughter. The strangers on the street who didn’t even notice him. And then he thought of himself—small, weak, forgotten. And he realized he didn’t want to be that person anymore.
With a trembling hand, he reached out and took the doppelganger’s hand.
The moment their hands touched, the void shattered.
Itsuki’s body convulsed violently, writhing on the ground as his transformation began. His skin seemed to bubble and melt, peeling away to reveal layers of glistening, writhing tendrils beneath. The tendrils twisted and coiled, each pulsating as if alive, shifting in a grotesque dance of muscle and flesh. His chest heaved, and where his face once was, a massive, gaping mouth began to form. It spiraled inward like a tunnel, lined with endless rows of jagged, uneven teeth that gleamed wetly, dripping with a viscous, dark fluid. The flesh around it was raw and red, glistening as if freshly flayed, oozing and quivering with each motion.
His hands stretched and distorted, fingers elongating into tendrils tipped with sharp, claw-like protrusions. His legs twisted unnaturally, the joints bending backward, his feet splitting into grotesque, talon-like appendages that dug into the concrete. The creature stood nearly ten feet tall, its form constantly shifting, the tendrils that made up its body writhing and pulsating with an unsettling rhythm, as though it were breathing—or hungering.
When Itsuki finally stood, he was no longer human. He was a towering mass of living, churning flesh and teeth, his presence alone radiating a primal fear that paralyzed those who looked upon him.
Then he roared.
The sound was unlike anything the world had ever heard. A deep, guttural blast erupted from the spiraling maw, resonating with such force that the air itself seemed to shatter. The shockwave of sound rolled outward in an instant, tearing through the city with devastating power. Windows exploded, sending shards of glass raining down onto the streets. Cars crumpled and flipped over as the sheer force of the sound ripped through them, metal screeching and twisting under the pressure.
Humans, fragile and helpless, clutched their ears as blood poured from their noses and mouths. Some screamed, their cries lost in the deafening roar, but most collapsed where they stood, their eardrums ruptured, their brains scrambled by the force. The lucky ones died instantly. Others writhed on the ground, their bodies broken by the soundwaves that crushed the very air around them.
Buildings groaned and cracked, their foundations unable to withstand the relentless assault. Cracks spiderwebbed through concrete, and entire walls crumbled, sending debris tumbling into the streets below. Fires erupted as gas lines ruptured, smoke billowing into the darkened sky, further choking the city in chaos.
Itsuki spread his arms wide, his massive tendrils swaying and undulating as if feeding off the destruction around him. His towering form loomed over the devastation, his raw and monstrous body reflecting the fires below, casting him as a living nightmare.
In the distance, more creatures like him were rising. Across Tokyo, across Japan, across the entire world, people like Itsuki—people who had been pushed down, ignored, consumed by their own suppressed desires—were transforming.
Each was unique, a grotesque reflection of their innermost hunger and rage, but all shared the same horrific power, their very presence tearing apart the fragile fabric of society. Cities burned, the streets flooded with fire and ash as these monstrous beings unleashed their fury on the world that had ignored them.
Humans ran, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
This was the Day of the Black Sun. The day desire consumed humanity.
The day the apocalypse began.
[ Itsuki Monstrous form ]
Comments
Lord Blood-Campione
I just read the wikia for it I'm kinda sshocked how close it it 😅 to what I have planned hahha I'm impressed.
DaoOfAnime
Give it a read or a watch, maybe some inspiration may hit(?)
DaoOfAnime
There is a Netflix adaptation. The source is a webtoon under the same name.
Lord Blood-Campione
I'm not familiar with that lol
DaoOfAnime
Hmm, is this inspired by Sweet Home?
DaoOfAnime
Here comes johnny
