Chapter 30: A Name Whispered in the Soul
The silence on the bridge was a deafening, sacred thing, broken only by the whistling of the wind through the newly-torn hole in its structure. Everyone was frozen, their minds struggling to process the sheer scale of destruction they had just witnessed and the impossible defense that had saved them.
Naruto stood as the epicenter of it all, his chest heaving with the effort of maintaining his ultimate technique. His Bankai, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi, still swirled around him in a slow, protective vortex of a billion blades, a testament to the apocalyptic power he had just contained. The strain was immense; this was a power his young, mortal body was not yet fully equipped to handle.
But his exhaustion was secondary. His focus, his entire being, was locked on the figure standing serenely at the highest point of the bridge. The man was a statue of calm malevolence, his golden eyes sweeping over the devastation he had wrought with an air of utter detachment.
As those golden eyes met Naruto's, a jolt, sharp and electric, shot through Naruto's soul. The fragmented dreams, the half-forgotten echoes of another life, suddenly crashed together in a tidal wave of perfect, agonizing clarity.
The white sands of Hueco Mundo.
The sterile halls of Las Noches.
A massive, shattered throne room.
And this man, his body twisted into a grotesque form covered in unblinking eyes, his voice filled with zealous praise for a false god(Aizen)
The memories came not as a story, but as a feeling—a visceral recollection of duty, of pride, of a battle fought to protect his sister.
The name bubbled up from the depths of his soul, a venomous whisper from a lifetime ago.
"Those eyes... that spiritual pressure..." Naruto said, his voice a low, rough rasp, each word a struggle. He pushed himself to stand straighter, the sea of blades around him swirling with a renewed, furious energy. "...Espada... Number 7."
He straightened his posture, the aristocratic bearing of a Soul Reaper Captain returning in full force despite his exhaustion. He looked up at the man on the arch, and for the first time in this life, he spoke not as Naruto Uzumaki, but as the soul within.
"Zommari Rureaux."
At the sound of his full name, spoken with such cold, ancient familiarity, the man on the arch finally broke his serene silence. A wide, slow smile spread across his face, a smile that did not reach his predatory golden eyes. It was a smile of vindication, of unholy joy. The hunter had finally found his prey.
"So," Zommari's voice echoed across the bridge, calm and resonant, yet filled with a chilling intensity. "You do remember, Kuchiki Byakuya."
The name hung in the air, a bombshell of utter confusion for everyone else on the bridge.
"Kuchiki... Byakuya?" Kakashi muttered from where he was being supported by Sakura, his single Sharingan eye wide with disbelief. "What is he talking about?"
Sasuke's mind reeled. The name was foreign, meaningless, yet the way Zommari said it, and the way Naruto responded to it, implied a history that defied all logic.
Hinata stared at Naruto, her heart pounding. The power, the nobility, the sudden shift in his entire demeanor—it was as if another person was standing in his place.
Zommari descended from the arch, not by jumping, but by simply appearing at the other end of the bridge with a flicker of movement so fast it seemed like teleportation—a perfect Sonído. He regarded the other ninja—Zabuza, Raiga, Ameyo, Ganseki—with a dismissive glance, as if they were nothing more than bothersome insects.
"Gato's pathetic mission is over," Zommari announced, his voice carrying an authority that was absolute. "Your targets are now irrelevant. Your payment is null and void."
"What did you say?!" Raiga snarled, having recovered from Naruto's earlier blow.
"Leave this place now," Zommari continued, his golden eyes never leaving Naruto, "or I will erase you from existence. My affair is with him, and him alone."
His spiritual pressure flared, a suffocating, terrifying wave that pressed down on everyone. It was not chakra. It was a dense, soul-crushing weight that promised oblivion. Zabuza instinctively took a step back. Raiga's manic grin vanished, replaced by a look of genuine shock. Ameyo and Ganseki froze, recognizing a power that was utterly beyond their comprehension.
This was not a Jōnin. This was not even a Kage. This was something else entirely. A monster from a different world.
Naruto's Bankai swirled violently, the billion blades of Senbonzakura Kageyoshi acting as a shield, protecting those behind him from the worst of Zommari's pressure. He was their sole defender against a threat they couldn't even understand.
"This is our battle, Zommari," Naruto said, his voice cold and steady, the voice of a Captain facing his fated enemy. "It was left unfinished in another life. Let us conclude it here."
Zommari's smile widened. "Gladly, Kuchiki. But do not think this will be a repeat of our last encounter. I have had decades to hone my power in this new vessel. You... you are but a pale imitation of your former self. This time, your precious pride will be stripped away, and your soul will learn to serve its rightful master."
The battle for the Land of Waves was over. A new, far more terrifying war was about to begin.
Chapter 31: King of the Kill
Zommari's gaze swept over the other combatants on the bridge—the Demon of the Mist, the Lightning Maniac, the Needle Charlatan, the Stone Mercenary. They were nothing. Insects. Remnants of a world he had long since surpassed.
"Be gone," he commanded, his voice devoid of anger, yet carrying the absolute weight of a divine decree. His spiritual pressure washed over them, a suffocating tide that promised annihilation.
Pride warred with primal fear in the hearts of the rogue ninja. They were killers, legends in their own right, but this... this was something else. This was not a man; it was an event. A force of nature.
Kakashi, his Sharingan spinning as he tried to comprehend the sheer density of the energy, made the call. "All units, fall back! Protect Tazuna! That's an order!"
Zabuza didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Haku and vanished into the mist. Raiga, for the first time, was silent, his manic grin gone as he got Ranmaru and retreated. Ameyo and Ganseki, pragmatic survivors, were already gone.
In seconds, the bridge was empty, save for two figures. Two souls locked in a conflict that spanned across worlds and lifetimes.
The first clash was not of energy, but of speed.
Zommari moved, and the world seemed to bend around him. His Sonído was a silent tear in reality, leaving no sound, no trace. He appeared before Naruto, his hand aimed at Naruto's throat.
Naruto's Bankai reacted instantly, a wall of a million petals surging to intercept. But it was a feint. Zommari was already gone, reappearing behind him.
"Gemelos Sonído."
Five perfect speed-clones materialized, surrounding Naruto in a flawless pentagram, each attacking simultaneously.
Naruto's blue eyes were cold and focused. He didn't rely on sight. He relied on the instincts of a man who had fought this very speed before. With a burst of Shunpo, he didn't dodge, but mirrored the movement, creating his own afterimages as he weaved between the five strikes, the wind from their attacks tearing at his clothes.
He lunged for the one whose spiritual pressure felt the most substantial—the real one. His sword, one of the thousand blades of his Senkei which he had just formed, flashed forward in a killing thrust.
CLANG!
The sound was not of flesh, but of steel on steel. The blade struck Zommari's collarbone and stopped dead, scraping against his skin with a shower of sparks.
"Hierro," Naruto breathed, recognizing the Arrancar's iron-hard skin.
Zommari smirked, swatting the blade away. "Your physical body is weak, Kuchiki. A pale shadow of its former glory." He unleashed a flurry of strikes, his fists and feet moving with a speed that blurred. Naruto was forced back, parrying the blows not with his sword, but with focused bursts of petals from his Bankai.
"And your reliance on tricks is as predictable as ever," Naruto countered, creating distance. He raised a hand, chakra—no, Reiryoku—gathering at his fingertips.
"Hadō #33. Sōkatsui!"
A massive torrent of blue spiritual energy roared towards Zommari. The Espada simply raised a finger.
"Bala!"
A volley of smaller, faster crimson energy blasts shot from his fist, peppering the Sōkatsui. They didn't stop it, but they disrupted its cohesion. Zommari then opened his mouth, a malevolent pink light gathering within.
"Cero!"
The pink beam tore through the weakened Kido and slammed into Naruto's position. The Senkei swords swirled, forming a dense vortex that absorbed the blast, but the force of the explosion sent Naruto skidding back, the bridge groaning under the strain.
"Your Kido is pathetic," Zommari stated. "A child's parlor trick."
"Then let's end this with the sword," Naruto declared, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. His Bankai pulsed, and the thousand blades of Senkei arranged themselves in a perfect, deadly coliseum around them. He held a single, glowing katana in his hand. "This is my true power. The embodiment of my control."
For the first time, a flicker of genuine excitement appeared in Zommari's golden eyes. "Yes. Show me. Show me the power that defeated me, so I can crush it!"
"Suppress, Brujería!"
Zommari's body contorted. His skin seemed to bubble and peel away as the spiraling black tattoos across his form split open, revealing fifty-eight unblinking, golden eyes. His lower body dissolved into a grotesque, pumpkin-like vessel. His transformation was swift, horrific, and absolute. He was no longer a man; he was a walking instrument of subjugation.
"Now, Kuchiki," the Resurreccióned Zommari hissed, his voice echoing from multiple sources. "Let's see your 'control'."
Naruto charged, blade held high. He was a blur of pure speed, his sword aimed for Zommari's head.
And then, the fifty-eight eyes opened wide.
"Amor."
Naruto froze mid-strike. It was not his body that was held. It was his Bankai.
All around them, sun-shaped sigils bloomed on the glowing blades of Senkei. One by one, then by the dozen, then by the hundred, the swords of his own soul turned to face him.
"A king must command his subjects," Zommari preached, his voice dripping with zealous glee. "Your own power now answers to me. It bows to its rightful master!"
The controlled swords of Senkei surged forward, a tidal wave of betrayal aimed at their own master.
Naruto's eyes widened in disbelief. He was forced onto the defensive, using his one true blade to parry and block the onslaught of his own Bankai. Steel screamed against steel as he was driven back, overwhelmed by a thousand of his own attacks.
"This cannot be!" he roared, a crack appearing in his noble composure.
"It is the truth of the universe!" Zommari declared. He raised a hand, and a dozen Senkei blades converged on Naruto from all sides in a perfect, inescapable cage of death.
Naruto had no choice. He brought his own katana up in a desperate, two-handed block to meet the combined, crushing force of his own power.
CRACK.
A spiderweb of fractures spread across the high-quality Land of Iron steel.
CRACK!
The blade screamed a final, metallic protest.
SHATTER!
Naruto's sword exploded into a thousand useless shards in his hands.
He was disarmed, his Bankai turned against him, his body still aching from the Cero's impact. He was utterly defeated.
Zommari's central eyes glowed with triumph. He opened his mouth, and a new energy gathered—one that was not pink, but a terrifying, absolute black, crackling with crimson lightning.
"Cero Oscuras."
The Black Cero, the ultimate expression of an Espada's power, shot forward.
Naruto, weaponless and betrayed by his own power, could only raise his hands as the last vestiges of his Bankai formed a desperate, final shield.
The black beam of nothingness struck him head-on. The shield of petals evaporated in an instant. The blast tore through his body, a wave of apocalyptic force that ripped him from the bridge and sent him hurtling, broken and unconscious, into the swirling, misty waters below.
The Bankai dissipated. The stolen swords vanished. Zommari Rureaux stood alone on the broken bridge, the victor.