The Day the Sun Broke

" Why? Weren't we all supposed to be allies? ”

August 6, 2025.

How could I ever forget that day? The date is etched in my memory since that calamity began.

I remember it was a summer afternoon. I was lying on the tatami floor of our small apartment in a working-class district of Tokyo, with the fan spinning above us. My older brother, Takeshi, was beside me. We were watching a program on television.

We didn't have any luxuries. Our parents worked double shifts and we barely made ends meet, but in that small space, we were happy.

Then, all of Japan came to a sudden halt.

The audience laughter on television cut out, replaced by a high-pitched beep that pierced my ears. The screen flickered with gray static before switching to the national emergency channel. Colorful earthquake warning stripes covered the edges.

The presenter appeared on screen. But there was something strange about him.

“ We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an important report. ”

The images switched to a live aerial shot from a helicopter over the Five Lakes of Mount Fuji. What I saw defied all logic.

The lake water, usually calm and blue, was black and bubbling, as if someone had lit a fire underneath it. And right in the center, breaking the surface like a colossal beast coming up for air, emerged an impossible structure.

It wasn't debris. It was an entire complex of black pagodas, giant torii gates, and a feudal castle that dwarfed modern skyscrapers. The most terrifying thing was not its size, but its perfection. There was no moss, no cracks, no erosion. It was as if it had been built yesterday.

I was only seven years old. I looked at Takeshi, searching for an explanation, hoping he would tell me it was a movie, a special effect. But he was as petrified as I was.

“ What is that, brother? ” I asked.

He didn't answer. No one in Japan had an answer.

Days passed. Then weeks. And that structure wasn't the only one. In Kyoto, the ground opened up to reveal inverted temples. In Hokkaido, ice fortresses rose from the snow. In Osaka, bone castles sprouted in the middle of shopping districts.

Society entered into a kind of collective hysteria. At school, in parks, and even in offices, it was the only topic of conversation. Some scientists said it was the result of shifting tectonic plates; others, such as religious people, shouted from street corners that it was the return of the old gods, enraged by our modernity.

However, human curiosity always had consequences.

The government sent its best research team: the MASAMI Research Group. Archaeologists, historians, and even special forces ventured into the unknown. They even managed to decipher some ancient runes embedded in the door of the main castle on the lake. They said it was an invitation. They decided to go in to investigate, broadcasting live to the entire country.

The broadcast lasted about ten minutes. The last thing heard were screams. Screams that did not sound human, and then, static silence. They never came out of that place again.

And although that seemed like a national tragedy, it was only the beginning.

Because the real hell was about to begin.

Out of nowhere, and without warning, the blue sky over Japan changed.

I remember looking up and seeing the clouds dissipate, replaced by a yellowish-red sky, similar to the color of an infected bruise. The air became heavy, and there was a sulfur-like smell that made it difficult to breathe.

The castle gates burst open with a thunderous sound that shattered window panes several kilometers away.

And from within emerged human nightmares.

Creatures that should only exist in Japanese folklore books and in the worst imaginations materialized. Red and blue-skinned oni with iron clubs capable of knocking down buildings. Gakis, hungry spirits that moved on all fours with unnatural speed, and even Tengus that ruled the skies.

They weren't looking to coexist with humans or claim territory.

They were seeking human extermination.

One city fell in a matter of hours. Then another, and another. We tried to defend ourselves, of course.

The Self-Defense Forces deployed everything they had: tanks, artillery, fighter jets. I saw on the news, before the power went out, how missiles hit one of them in the chest and simply bounced off. Their skin was impenetrable to our technology. They hunted us for mere amusement.

We were cattle in our own home.

But, unfortunately, the beasts weren't our only problem.

Our Prime Minister, who was at an international meeting when all hell broke loose, did not sit idly by. With tears in his eyes and on his knees, he pleaded for help before the United Nations Assembly. He asked the great powers, our supposed allies, to send aid, to help us stem the tide before we drowned.

And then, the miracle of the Japanese spirit happened. I saw the air around Takeshi distort. An unknown, translucent, furious entity burst from his back, enveloping him like armor. His fist glowed with a light I had never seen before. When he struck the beast, not only did it have an effect, but there was a crunching of bones.

The monster's flesh caved in. Black blood splattered the walls. For the first time in history, a human had wounded a Calamity with his own hands.

After that incident, the spark ignited throughout Japan. In various parts of the ruins, more people began to awaken that latent power as they were pushed to the brink of despair.

People called them Kijin.

They are not shining heroes from fairy tales. They are suicidal warriors, born of trauma and forged in the will to survive. They are the only ones who can stand up to this calamity.

Now, ten years later, the promise lives on. We will take back what was stolen from us. We will reclaim our pride. And if the world tries to stop us again... well, we'll have something for them too.

Welcome to Neo Haikyo Japan: The Age of Ruins.