The memories of his childhood flashed vividly in Ren's mind once more—scenes that haunted him through countless sleepless nights. He hated those who had wronged him, but he also hated his own powerlessness as a child.
Did he really loathe....himself?
Ren pondered deeply. For a long time, he had been tormented by guilt, but he had already moved past it.
His master and senior sister wouldn't want to see him stuck in the past. He had vowed to avenge them and ascend to the pinnacle of martial arts.
But if it wasn't self-loathing, and if he was sure he was human, why did he see such visions in the depths of his soul?
The class ended without Ren making any progress in resonating with his zanpakutō. He resolved to attempt a deeper connection later that night.
The classroom setting was far from ideal—too many eyes and Aizen's cryptic advice was often veiled in subtle hints. Though Aizen had admitted to mastering shikai, he had yet to demonstrate it openly to the instructor or classmates.
------
That evening, dragging his slightly weary body back to the dormitory, Ren collapsed onto his bed.
But he didn't intend to sleep. Today's training with Captain Unohana had been relatively mild, leaving him with enough energy for further exploration.
Determined, he decided to delve deeper into the mystery of his zanpakutō—or rather, the secrets of his soul.
Before starting, he glanced at his current status panel.
Explorer 404040404
Base Stats:
Constitution: 17 (+2)
Strength: 16 (+1)
Agility: 17 (+2)
Spirit: 22 (+2)
Charm: 6
Luck: 1
His stats had changed noticeably. The increase in Constitution was a direct result of his repeated 'sessions' with Captain Unohana, where his body had undergone cycles of destruction and regeneration.
Agility had improved through his rigorous practice and mastery of advanced shunpo, refining his reflexes and high-speed movement capabilities.
Strength saw only a minor improvement, as he hadn't focused on it specifically.
Spirit had risen thanks to the meditation techniques passed down at the Spiritual Arts Academy. These exercises were designed to enhance reiatsu and spirit, resulting in more apparent gains in that area.
It was worth noting that all his attributes were indirectly tied to the growth of his reiatsu. Spirit merely reflected this link most prominently.
The academy had currently assessed him as possessing Level 16 reiatsu, though Ren felt he was merely skimming the threshold of that level.
Aizen had once claimed he had learned the true name of his Shikai at Level 17 reiatsu, a statement Ren suspected was a lie. However, based on Aizen's subtle expressions when speaking, Ren believed that reaching Level 17 reiatsu with a zanpakutō was indeed sufficient to unlock Shikai.
If Aizen could do it, there was no reason Ren couldn't.
With that thought, Ren calmed his mind and employed the academy's resonance technique, directing his consciousness toward the depths of his soul.
Across the dorm, Aizen noticed Ren entering a meditative state. With a faint smile, he extinguished the lights and began his own nightly 'grind'.
Ren found himself once again walking beneath an endless black sky, unable to discern his path forward or back.
This time it felt different. He couldn't pinpoint what had changed, but the resonance seemed more intense than ever before.
When he took a step forward, a sudden sensation of weightlessness overcame him. The world around him began to quake, and his ears filled with faint whispers, accompanied by bone-chilling wails.
He was falling—plummeting deeper than ever before into this abyss.
Instinct warned him to halt the resonance, but his curiosity about the secrets buried within his soul urged him onward.
It was as though he had broken through an unseen barrier. For a moment, his vision blurred, then sharpened again, revealing—hell.
A purgatory of swirling violet-black flames engulfed a vast river of molten lava. The flames writhed and twisted like living entities, consuming the air with deafening roars.
The sky above was thick with smoke, pierced occasionally by streaks of dark red lightning. The brief flashes illuminated tortured faces writhing in agony.
Amid the inferno stood a massive structure—a crude, jagged edifice forged from hardened magma. Its surface was etched with sinuous, violet-black patterns that resembled vines.
At its base was a dark crimson door, slowly creaking open to reveal an impenetrable void within. The faint sound of clinking chains emanated from the darkness.
When the door fully opened, the cacophony of wails suddenly ceased. The oppressive silence was broken only by the crackling of flames and the rhythmic lapping of lava.
The door seemed to beckon Ren with an otherworldly pull. Unconsciously, he stepped forward.
To his amazement, he crossed the molten river and roaring flames in a single stride, arriving before the door.
A prison?
Ren's mind whispered the word unbidden. Why did he instinctively perceive this structure as a prison?
From the moment he saw the door, he had been certain of it. Yet, the edifice was nothing more than a chaotic mound of hardened magma.
Peering into the crimson void, he saw nothing but darkness.
Just then, flames erupted in massive waves behind him, casting a blood-red light into the prison.
For an instant, the shadows within shifted, revealing their captive.
A figure wreathed in shadow sat bound by countless chains, seemingly forged by some otherworldly metal that gave those chains an ethereal glow,
The figure's body exuded an abyssal darkness, vast and inscrutable. Sensing Ren's gaze, the being slowly raised its head.
As the flames illuminated its face, Ren saw its deep-set eyes—pits of cold malice and unyielding fury, burning with an eternal hatred that time itself could not extinguish.
At that moment, the wind rose, carrying the scorching heat and the stench of sulfur. Ash and charred earth swirled through the air, passing through Ren's intangible form and pouring into the prison. The debris settled on the shadowy figure within, yet it failed to obscure the overwhelming sense of imprisoned majesty emanating from it.
So this is....my zanpakutō?
The realization struck Ren with a mixture of clarity and confusion. He couldn't help but ask, "What is your name?"
The shadowy figure in the depths of the prison locked eyes with him, yet no answer came. Instead, it let out a thunderous roar.
ROAR—
The sound seemed capable of shattering entire worlds, laden with unrelenting hatred and despair forged over countless millennia.
It was a roar of fury, madness, and....loneliness.
As the godlike figure bellowed, the entire infernal world trembled.
The sky fractured, the earth split apart, and tsunamis of molten lava surged. Flames leapt like meteor showers, illuminating the chaos.
Standing before the prison, Ren remained motionless, calm amidst the apocalyptic upheaval. Behind him, towering waves of lava reached unimaginable heights, and violet-black flames danced around him like ethereal sprites.
In the face of this cataclysm, Ren's expression remained serene as he continued to meet the gaze of the imprisoned figure.
Just as he prepared to speak again, a gale erupted from beneath his feet, sweeping him into the sky.
The world spun violently, and before he could make sense of the chaos, Ren's eyes snapped open—he was back in his dormitory, lying on his bed.
He had been ejected by the figure, like a mere intruder.
Ren sat up, still reeling from the experience. Glancing outside, he noticed the first light of dawn breaking through the horizon.
The night had passed in the blink of an eye.