Sixth Division Barracks.
The new captain of the Sixth Division, Uchiha Obito, was currently sparring with his lieutenant.
Abarai Renji was in a bit of a predicament.
At the start of their match, he had noticed that his captain's swordsmanship was rather mediocre.
Thinking this could be his opening, he aimed to put up a respectable performance—not necessarily to win, but at least to avoid an embarrassing defeat.
However, while Captain Uchiha's swordsmanship might have been average, his other abilities were overwhelmingly powerful.
Renji knew that ninja were adept at using techniques called ninjutsu, and this captain seemed particularly skilled in them—spewing flames, manipulating trees, and launching attacks that were nearly impossible to defend against.
As their battle continued, Renji realized that his attacks were having no effect on his captain whatsoever.
It was as if Obito wasn't really there, merely an illusion standing in his place.
Before a crowd of onlookers, Renji launched strike after strike, only to be effortlessly outmaneuvered every single time.
Panting heavily, he felt utterly frustrated and finally paused to ask, "Captain, are you planning to just keep dodging forever?"
Obito chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry about that. You're right—this isn't much of a proper fight. I was just trying to get used to my powers in this world."
Saying this, he tightened his grip on his glowing Nichirin Blade and looked directly at Renji.
"Alright then, from here on out, I'll use my full strength."
Full strength…?
Renji froze for a moment before his eyes widened in panic. "Wait! Captain, you don't mean—"
But it was already too late.
Obito had taken his stance, and his chakra surged, instantly reaching its peak.
"Bankai—"
Renji's face turned pale.
He had only wanted his captain to stop toying with him—not to go straight into Bankai against a mere lieutenant!
In an instant, Renji's vision blurred.
The world around him shattered like broken glass, and the vibrant colors of reality vanished, leaving behind a pitch-black void.
He looked around in confusion, unable to comprehend where he was.
The Sixth Division barracks were gone.
The captain, the squad members—everything had disappeared.
There was no trace of spiritual pressure in the surroundings.
All that remained was a vast, endless nothingness.
At that moment, a weak voice sounded in Renji's ear.
"Hey... are you a Shinigami?"
Renji spun around sharply, only to see a man covered in blood.
He wore what seemed to be a green short-sleeved top and clutched a straight-edged blade without a guard.
............
At the same time, back at the Sixth Division barracks, the gathered squad members looked at each other in shock.
"Lieutenant Renji... disappeared..."
"His reiatsu is completely gone."
"What just happened? What's going on?"
Obito was also stunned.
His Bankai indeed had the ability to manipulate space—when His Majesty had witnessed it, he had even praised it as an extremely powerful ability.
But just now, Obito had not intended to send Renji into another dimension.
When he activated his Bankai, an uncontrollable surge of power had suddenly erupted from his right arm, transferring directly into his blade.
He lowered his gaze to his right arm.
It was wrapped in bandages—his original arm had been crushed under falling rocks when he was a teenager.
Later, Uchiha Madara had grafted White Zetsu cells onto him, and after returning to the village, the Fourth Hokage at the time, Orochimaru, had given him a fully regenerated limb.
After a moment, one of the squad members couldn't hold back any longer and asked, "Captain, where is lieutenant Renji?"
Obito took a deep breath and activated his Bankai once more.
The space Renji had been sent to wasn't his usual dimension—it was somewhere else entirely.
And for some reason, his right arm seemed to be the key to linking that unknown space.
Focusing his will, he guided the energy in his right arm back into his Nichirin Blade.
A black, chaotic vortex slowly formed in the air before him.
From every angle, it appeared the same, as if space itself were collapsing inward.
Obito narrowed his eyes at the vortex, sensing that something was off.
Suddenly, his right arm flared up with a burning, itchy sensation.
That strange feeling he had since arriving in Soul Society—the sensation that something was calling out to him—grew even stronger.
For a long moment, he stood motionless.
Then, at last, something within the vortex responded.
Two massive, pitch-black arms—completely inhuman in shape—suddenly reached out, gripping the edges of the vortex.
With sheer force, the entity tore open the swirling void, widening it from the size of a person to an enormous rift several meters wide.
Obito stood frozen in place, suddenly sensing an overwhelming sense of danger.
He immediately attempted to close the spatial rift, but it was already too late.
No matter how much chakra he channeled, the pitch-black figure continued to emerge from within, inch by inch.
...........
Imperial Palace – Front Hall
At this moment, Makoto was resting on Kaguya's lap, eyes closed in a light nap.
Beside them stood the newly appointed Head Captain of Seireitei, Unohana Retsu.
Unohana was reporting the latest progress on Seireitei's reconstruction.
Unlike the last time, things were progressing much faster with substantial support from the living world.
Konohagakure had sent numerous mechanical puppets and large-scale machinery to assist with labor-intensive tasks, their efficiency far exceeding that of ordinary workers.
The Emperor had issued several decrees, the first of which was to completely sever the connection between Seireitei and Rukongai, turning Rukongai into a place meant solely for housing deceased souls.
Unohana immediately realized—this was a move to fully control the Shinigami forces.
With the existence of Nichirin Blades, the Empire had already mastered the ability to guide the dead and purify Hollows.
Eventually, they could replace the Shinigami entirely.
Now that the Soul Society had become dependent on the Emperor, the boundary between life and death had grown increasingly blurred.
The Emperor must have recognized this as an unsustainable situation, choosing to reconstruct a stable cycle of life and death through different means.
Once a person dies, they are truly dead.
The dead would no longer have the opportunity to become Shinigami.
Instead, only the living would serve as Shinigami.
And once the Tower of Solarity fully covered the entire world, guiding the souls of the deceased would become a fully automated process.
To Unohana, the Emperor's foresight was undeniable.
Yet at times, she found him excessively ambitious.
Thinking back to the hidden aspirations she had sensed in him before, she couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine.
And then, there was this white-eyed woman beside him.
The moment she had entered the hall, Unohana had sensed her extraordinary presence—a feeling akin to an insurmountable gap in existence itself.
She and this woman were not even on the same level.
Unlike the Emperor, who concealed his strength, this woman made no effort to hide hers.
Unohana had never imagined that someone this powerful could exist.
Previously, during the Interdimensional Exchange, she had believed that Tsunade and Anko were among the strongest women in the living world.
Yet this woman, strong beyond reason, was now obediently offering her lap as a pillow—calling the Emperor "Master."
Unohana lowered her gaze and said, "Your Majesty, that concludes my report."
The Emperor, eyes still closed, responded with a faint "Mmm", though it was unclear whether he had truly been listening.
Taking this as her cue, Unohana bowed slightly and said, "I shall take my leave."
The Emperor offered no further response.
Unohana gave a respectful bow and was about to turn to leave when his voice rang out once more.
"Captain Unohana."
"I am here, Your Majesty."
"The organization that all Shinigami belong to—is it called the Gotei 13?"
"…Yes, it is."
"Don't you find that name rather strange? The duty of the Shinigami is to maintain the stability of the world, so why is it called the 'Gotei'—the Court Guard?"
Unohana fell silent for a moment before replying in a calm tone, "What does Your Majesty believe it should be called?"
After all, it had been the upper-class nobles of the Soul Society who had chosen to submit to the Emperor of the living world in the first place.
And one of the primary responsibilities of the Shinigami had always been to protect these very nobles.
She cast a sidelong glance at the Emperor, who remained reclined on the white-eyed woman's lap, and found it utterly ironic.
"There's no rush to change the name," the Emperor continued, "but I believe that among the thirteen divisions, quite a few of them serve no real purpose. What do you think, Captain Unohana?"
"If that is Your Majesty's judgment, then I have no objections," Unohana answered.
She felt no particular sense of duty toward the Soul Society or Seireitei.
When the Emperor had appointed her as Head Captain, she hadn't refused.
She had known full well that she was nothing more than a puppet.
And now, with the Emperor openly taking step after step to consume the Soul Society, she had no intention of resisting.
Because she knew—she was powerless to stop it.
To obediently play the role of a compliant tool—to simply go with the flow—perhaps that was the best outcome.
The future of the Soul Society wouldn't necessarily take a turn for the worse.
Judging by the state of the living world, this Emperor was no fool.
He was simply so ambitious that he could not allow the old order to continue existing.
"Right now, the Soul Society is incredibly weak. Restoring its strength should be the top priority." The Emperor spoke.
"Understood."
"By the way," the Emperor suddenly opened his eyes and turned his gaze toward her, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Captain Unohana, you hail from the medical division. You must have extensive knowledge of the human body, don't you?"
"…I know a thing or two," Unohana replied, uncertain of his intent.
The fundamental difference between long-lived beings and mortals was that for those with eternal lifespans, worldly desires tended to fade over the ages.
But this Emperor—he was barely in his twenties.
He was at an age when desires burned most fiercely.
She met his gaze—one that seemed intent on stripping away every layer of fabric she wore—and let out a silent sigh.
It seemed that she… was destined to become a mere plaything.
And at the hands of this Emperor—she would be toyed with for a long, long time.
..............
Seireitei, Sixth Division.
Obito felt dazed, his thoughts hazy.
The spatial rift had already closed, yet before him, a group of people had suddenly appeared.
He couldn't remember what had just happened—no matter how hard he tried to recall, a sharp pain stabbed through his head.
These people were covered in blood, as if they had just survived a life-or-death battle. But—his liutenant, Abarai Renji, was nowhere to be seen.
"Wait… isn't that… Urahara Kisuke?!"
Someone in the crowd suddenly recognized them, exclaiming in shock.
"And Shihoin Yoruichi… Hirako Shinji!"
"They're all criminals from over a hundred years ago!"
Obito carefully examined them—ten people in total.
His grip on his Nichirin Blade tightened as he remained alert. "Who are you?"
The group glanced around, as if confirming something, before some of them collapsed onto the ground, utterly exhausted.
A man wearing a green haori finally spoke. "You must be… the new Sixth Division Captain?"
Before he could say more, a shadowy figure suddenly appeared atop a distant building.
Urahara's expression darkened instantly upon seeing the newcomer.
Shinji's face twisted in shock and fury as he shouted—
"Aizen!"
...............
Biological Science Research Institute.
The place had undergone a complete transformation since the last time Tobirama had been here.
Although Kabuto was still young, he now carried an air of maturity and steadiness that made him seem much older.
Despite his own growth, Kabuto still held deep respect for this predecessor.
So, when Tobirama made his request, he agreed without hesitation.
"I've never attempted soul separation before," Kabuto admitted, looking at Tobirama.
"It's not going to be easy."
"I know. That's exactly why I returned to Konoha—to attempt it."
Kabuto fell into thought, his gaze landing on the delicate-looking boy lying inside the glass chamber.
After a moment, he couldn't help but ask, "This child's soul is malformed, but he is already an independent entity. Have you considered that forcibly separating his soul… might kill his current consciousness?"
Inside the chamber, Shiroe couldn't hear their conversation.
He simply looked around curiously at the various instruments surrounding him.
Kabuto continued, "Between the two fused souls, is there one that's particularly important to you?"
Tobirama's expression remained unchanged—as cold and rigid as ever.
He merely said, "Begin the preparations."
His gaze shifted to the boy within the transparent chamber.
For a brief moment, a ripple of emotion flickered through his deep, lake-like eyes.
But Tobirama was always cold-hearted enough—and, more importantly, he believed himself to be rational enough.
Just then, however, the boy inside the glass chamber suddenly froze, his expression going blank as his face lost all focus.
A moment later, his body tensed, and a pained groan escaped his lips.
"Ugh… ahh…!"
Kabuto's eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't even done anything yet.
None of the instruments had been activated—he had only just scanned the boy's body.
Sensing something was wrong, Kabuto immediately opened the chamber.
Tobirama stepped forward before anyone else, just as Shiroyo let out a trembling voice—
"Mas… Master…"
His eyes flickered between clarity and emptiness, his expression twisting between dazed confusion and agonizing pain.
Tobirama quickly examined his body but found nothing unusual.
Kabuto, realizing something, hurriedly grabbed a pair of glasses from the nearby table.
Then, he witnessed a scene that he would never forget for the rest of his life.
Inside the boy's body, two fused souls of different colors were being violently torn apart, their shapes constantly shifting as they struggled against each other.
But what truly shocked Kabuto was that one of the pure-colored souls was connected to a massive black shadow!
That shadow was enormous!
Kabuto, wearing his soul-seeing glasses, instinctively looked upward—only to find the shadow stretching across the entire space, piercing through the walls and engulfing the sky above the research institute.
At that moment, he understood—
This shadow was forcibly tearing at the boy's soul, attempting to sever a part of it and claim it entirely!
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
The sight before him was far beyond his comprehension.
I must report this to His Majesty!
No… His Majesty has probably already sensed it…
As this thought formed, Kabuto instinctively turned to leave—
But just as he took his first step, his mind exploded with a deafening "boom", and everything went dark.
"Kabuto!"
Tobirama's expression changed drastically, his voice sharp with urgency as he called out.
At that moment, the boy lying atop the now-open glass chamber let out a weak, pained voice—
"Master…"
"Master…"
His breathing grew rapid, his expression twisting in agony—
"I don't want to…"
--------------
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