The problem with giving a child the body and capabilities of an adult was that their movements would be sluggish, their hands not used to the burden of adulthood, and their mind far too feeble to realize the burden of a true man.

The shooting down of the divine chariot that was Indra was a testament to the failure of a naive youth.

Tengoku should have never given the child that was Minoru a chance in combat. He was no great magus, nor was he a prodigy in combat, no matter how much his pride told him so.

Flames would wash over him. It was enough to shatter concrete, reducing it into ash and soot. It was special, yes, it was special enough that Tengoku could recognize it as Minoru writhed in agony within their mental landscape, the mummy of Ryomen Sukuna ever-so-slightly dripping more of its puss into the interior domain with every cry that the boy would let out.

For Tengoku, it was simply another pain that could be added to the endless, overflowing pot that was his mind.

It did damage, that was to be sure, burning the skin and muscle that was present on Minoru’s chest. Bone was even singed and cracked, threatening to expose the heart that the both of them shared to the outside world, and more severely, the flames that threatened to consume it.

But as Minoru panicked, Tengoku merely wrestled away control from the foolish child.

Tengoku scoffed, seeing as Minoru forgot to apply the principles of Ösel and Gyulü to his body before the moment of impact.

The old man had a level of respect for the boy, for his intuition and his ability to learn fast, but there was one thing that truly held him: hesitation.

And indeed, even though the old man could not hear the sheep girl’s thoughts, her sentiment was indeed acknowledged by him. There was no great familiar that he could conjure, but as the principles of Ösel and Gyulü washed over him and his wounds began to heal with speed that would shock even seasoned mages, Tengoku would merely stare at the distance between him and the girl that the boy had so foolishly targeted.

Only one thing was given to him in both the fields of magecraft and combat: unrivaled flexibility.

And in this particular case, as the flames began to dissipate, he could think of many options for him to embody, but one in particular seemed interesting to him.

He was reminded of the distance between gods and humans, heaven and earth, insects and man. Such things could never be crossed because of one thing: death. Humans could never climb the mountain that separated them from divinity, lest they gain the ire of the gods and be erased from existence. 
The earth could never hope to reach the sky, as the distance was impossible to cross, the touching of earth and the heavens ultimately resulting in the death of all creatures.

Likewise, an insect could never hope to attain the status of a man, as the information and wisdom of mankind would flood its feeble brain and leave it dead.

It was a bridge that could never be crossed, or in a more accurate sense: a bridge that never existed at all.

That was, until some two thousand years ago, when a sage and prince brought forth a bridge that would allow mankind to cross into and past the realm of the divine. He was sure his opponent knew it, even as they were most likely a mage that focused on western traditions.

God could never be crossed, Olympus could never be peaked, and the kami could never be escaped from.

A number of hand signs and chants were spoken forth into existence, even as the body of Minoru was struggling to move. Two mouths, two faces and four arms brought forth the possibility that Gautama Buddha brought forth into existence with the invocation of one particular deity and his mandala.

The broken mandala of Indra would fade away, and in its place, the spirits and daemons of Ryomen Sukuna begin to form a new one.

Instead of the torrent of lightning that greeted Indra, only a calm wind would emanate from Tengoku’s form, obfuscating his transformation.

In the end, the Phurba would be once more unsheathed, held in the right hand, while the vajra was held in the left. When the hand signs and chants were finally completed, they settled on a particular one: Ksepana, the sprinkling of the nectar of immortality upon mankind.

“No longer would mankind be held back by the cycle of death, for an escape throughout eternity had been found.” 

It was as if those words were spoken with the invocation of the mudra. It was the first thing that could be found, but as the wind settled and faded away, the two faces would find themselves with another eye between them.

It was the eye of the destroyer, the one that conquered death in order to save a follower. The mandala floated behind his head, like a wheel of perfect harmony.

The once Asura-like form had transformed into one of a divine countenance: Yamantaka, Shiva, the conqueror of Yama. It had many names, but the deity had been invoked within his physical form. Instead of the furious and cursed appearance, golden hair would flow down his shoulders, and his five eyes would glow golden with a divine radiance.

His skin was a silver that would not be touched by death. Indeed, it seemed as if the sun itself had descended into the battlefield to face his opponent.

The mandala served to be the thing that allowed the bridge of death to be crossed. Practically, this meant that injuries would healed, adapted to with every turn of the mandala, fueled both by the magical energy of the magus it was being wielded by and the spirits within Ryomen Sukuna. The regeneration would be absurd, even more so than the gifts of the Gyulü would already allow, further bolstered by a boost in physical capabilities that further enhanced what the Ösel would conjure forth.

Furthermore, both the Generation and Completion stages were being used, further boosting the capabilities of the mandala. Meanwhile, the fifth eye that graced Tengoku’s form would serve as an offensive and defensive implement that would both shoot at his opponents and intercept projectiles to protect him from instant death.

His mind had been dissolved, fully immersed in the role that he was playing. There was no longer Mononobe Tengoku, but only the deity that had taken hims place. Only a shadow as left as both Tengoku and Minoru watched in their mental landscape, both engrossed in their little play.

His first action as the deity that conquered death was a single step forward, followed by a beam of crimson energy aimed at the archer that shot at Minoru’s feeble body. It was payback, even if Tengoku would never acknowledge his vengeance for his host.

[@Yukitamas]