Seiya Arima died at the hands of Kiganjō.
There was no miracle.
The tide did not turn.
Like the decaying, stagnant rules of a world untouched for millennia, fate moved forward relentlessly.
And the sound of it — the metaphorical depiction of an unchanging reality — reverberated through the nervous system of Tōsen Kaname.
Acceptance takes time, but before it even fully sank in, Tōsen had already reacted instinctively.
His muscles tensed, his lips parted, and he stepped forward.
"Kaname, what are you doing?"
Aizen's voice came from behind, steady and measured, carrying that ever-present air of control.
"As you see, I'm going to—"
"Seek revenge?"
There was a hint of mockery in Aizen's voice. Despite his calm demeanor, there was a faint trace of amusement mixed with a distant melancholy.
"For someone without sight, you're surprisingly blind in this moment. You're too emotional, Kaname."
A reprimand wasn't the goal. After delivering it, Aizen's tone shifted back to that familiar gentle cadence, like a teacher guiding a student.
"Well then, let's revisit what the Academy taught us."
"Spiritual pressure represents the density and quality of a soul. By sensing a person's reiatsu, a Shinigami can determine their strength."
"And by paying attention to fluctuations in reiatsu, one can detect something else just as important."
Aizen took a step forward, standing at the very edge of the rooftop, his gaze cast toward the distant horizon.
"One can sense whether a person is alive… or dead."
With that, Aizen half-raised his left hand, as if to grasp something unseen lingering in the air. His gaze softened, but his voice trembled slightly — carrying a rare, inexplicable excitement.
"Can't you feel it, Kaname? That reiatsu… it hasn't weakened."
"No… it's growing stronger."
The surge of spiritual pressure was undeniable. Seiya's reiatsu wasn't fading.
It was expanding.
Like a rising tide, it washed over the entire street, suffusing the air with raw energy. It was as if Seiya's soul had fragmented, spreading out to encompass the entire Seireitei.
An unprecedented phenomenon.
Based on the level of spiritual power Seiya had displayed before, he hadn't yet reached the threshold necessary for Bankai.
Which could only mean…
"This," Aizen murmured, his eyes glinting behind his glasses, "is his true Shikai."
"And what an astonishing ability it is."
Aizen couldn't contain his awe. His voice dropped to a near whisper.
"What's the name of this sword…? I must know."
Seiya's consciousness drifted in a black void.
His body felt submerged in a thick, viscous liquid — sticky and suffocating, like glue. There was no way out.
Am I dead?
Is this… the afterlife?
As he pondered, a voice — one both unfamiliar and inexplicably familiar — echoed in the darkness.
"Why didn't you run?"
The voice wasn't angry, but it carried a tinge of frustration.
"Why do something so dangerous?"
"You're terrified of fighting. You're not like the others — you don't crave battle."
"Even before you draw your sword, your whole body trembles with fear. How can someone like that stand against a real warrior?"
Colors began to bleed into the void.
Black and white coalesced, slowly forming shapes until a figure emerged before Seiya.
A small girl, dressed in the traditional black Shinigami uniform. She barely reached his waist in height.
Her long hair framed a round face, and her wide eyes glimmered with emotion.
If she grew up, she'd undoubtedly become a striking beauty.
But right now, her face was scrunched in an exaggerated scowl, her expression twisted in irritation.
It was a comical contrast to her otherwise delicate features.
"I've seen everything. I know all of it."
Her voice carried a pouty, frustrated tone.
"You're scared — more scared than anyone else. You hate danger."
"All you ever wanted was to live a simple life, make a few friends, maybe get a girlfriend. That's it."
"So why? Why do this?"
"Why fight when you don't have to?"
"Just run away! Stay far from danger. No one will blame you for that!"
Her words came out in a torrent, each one laced with a mix of anger and sorrow.
But Seiya didn't interrupt.
He listened quietly, his expression softening with each word.
And when she finally paused, he lowered his gaze, his lips trembling ever so slightly.
"…I'm sorry."
"…What?"
Her reaction was immediate — bewilderment and disbelief flickered across her face.
She couldn't understand why he was apologizing.
"Zanpakutō are reflections of the soul," Seiya murmured, his voice steady.
"They're manifestations of everything we hide inside ourselves."
"I understand now. You… you've been protecting me, haven't you?"
Her eyes widened, tears brimming at the corners.
"You've been shielding me from pain — from injury, from death."
Seiya knelt, reaching out to gently pat her head.
"All the fear I've buried, all the hesitation I've ignored… you've taken it all upon yourself."
The girl's tough exterior crumbled.
Her lower lip quivered. Her gaze dropped to the ground. And then… she began to sob.
"I couldn't help it!" she wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"You're so weak! Watching you get hurt over and over again — I couldn't take it anymore!"
"Why do you have to be so stupid?!"
"We don't have to fight! We could've lived quietly somewhere, far away from danger!"
Her tiny fists pounded against his chest, each word punctuated by another tearful plea.
Seiya remained silent.
And then, after a long pause, he smiled.
"Thank you."
His voice was soft, filled with genuine gratitude.
"I'm sorry for making you carry that burden alone."
He extended his hand toward her, palm open.
"Let's move forward together… Ouroboros."
"Idiot!"
The girl swatted his hand away and jumped onto his shoulders, pulling his hair.
"Ow! Hey!"
"You still don't get it!"
"My name's not Ouroboros!"
Her playful antics quickly turned into a triumphant grin.
Perched on his shoulders, she threw her head back and shouted to the heavens.
"Enough messing around! No more running away!"
"Sing my name aloud!"
Ouroboros had always been a shadow — a projection of Seiya's insecurities. A phantom, a serpent swallowing its own tail in endless cycles of doubt.
But now…
Now, she was more than that.
She was something new.
A dragon shedding its skin. A spirit reborn.
Her voice thundered across the void.
"Roil the seas, churn the heavens!"
"Unleash your true power — bring forth ruin and renewal!"
"Sāgara Ryū!"
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Powerstones?
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