In an instant, Shiraha felt his body tremble as a new template surged forth from within. Along with it came several new abilities.
A powerful Reiatsu, a deep violet tinged with blue, erupted from his body and burst into the surrounding air.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
A deafening explosion followed. The ground split apart, and every building nearby was reduced to rubble beneath the weight of his unleashed spiritual pressure.
From the throne ahead, Aizen Sōsuke rose slightly, his eyes glinting. Beside him, Kaname Tōsen, Ichimaru Gin, and Ulquiorra Cifer all reacted instantly as their own Reiatsu flared in response.
The collapsing stones of Las Noches hadn't even reached them before being pulverized midair by the raw spiritual energy surrounding their bodies—disintegrating into fine dust and scattering into spirit particles that vanished in the air.
Aizen, far from angry, looked on with quiet fascination. "How interesting. I wonder how much your abilities have evolved, Shiraha." His gaze shimmered with curiosity as he murmured to himself, an almost delighted smile touching his lips.
"Terrifying... this Shinigami," Ulquiorra muttered softly, his expression calm but his tone betraying faint surprise.
Gin and Tōsen exchanged brief glances, silent yet intrigued by the overwhelming pressure radiating from Shiraha.
After a long moment, the violent spiritual energy around Shiraha began to draw back, condensing once more into his body. Standing amidst the ruins, he opened his eyes slowly. The once-pristine palace of Las Noches had been reduced to ruins under the sheer force of his power.
His eyes, now a glacial shade of ice blue, gleamed with an ethereal light.
"First Template: Fujitora Issho Template—100%. Second Template: Gojo Satoru Template—100%. Third Template: Dio Brando Template—10%."
"Ability: Immortality. Perfected State—by absorbing spiritual particles and consuming spiritual energy, the body no longer ages and bears no limit to life span."
"Exclusive Ability: Locked. (Unlock requirement—template progress 20%. Current—10%.)"
A faint electronic tone echoed in his mind.
"Dio... from the JOJO world," Shiraha murmured, a small smile touching his lips. "Not bad. Immortality—true eternal life."
In the entire Soul Society, only the members of Squad Zero possessed something close to true immortality. The rest, even captains, still aged. Shinigami lived far longer than mortals, yet even their lives had an end.
Yamamoto Genryūsai had lived for over two millennia, yet his flame now burned dimly with age. Were it not for his extraordinary vitality, his body would have long since succumbed to time.
Shiraha's immortality, however, was different. As long as he replenished spiritual power, his life would continue endlessly. True eternity, realized through Reiatsu itself.
It puzzled him, though—why had immortality reached perfection at only 10% progress?
Reflecting on his prior experiences, Shiraha understood. The immortality of the Dio template must be a passive trait. In the original world, Dio sustained himself by consuming life energy. But here, as a Shinigami, that energy naturally translated into spiritual power. He needed only to consume Reiatsu to remain unaging.
Moreover, Dio's original weaknesses—sunlight, Hamon, and ultraviolet rays—did not apply in this realm. Those vulnerabilities no longer existed for Shiraha.
"System," Shiraha called inwardly, "what is the daily task for progressing the Dio template?"
The familiar, calm tone replied, "Host, the daily task for the Dio template is simple—remain alive. Each year survived increases template progress by 1%."
"Alive, huh? Not bad," Shiraha thought with quiet amusement. Compared to his previous templates, this task was effortless. Gojo Satoru's had required meditating with eyes closed for a year. Dio's demanded only that he live.
That meant if he lived peacefully for ninety years, the Dio template would reach full synchronization. But peace was an illusion.
In a few years, Yhwach and the Wandenreich would invade the Soul Society. There would be no such thing as stability. To face that future, Shiraha would need to grow stronger—strong enough to challenge even the God-King himself.
"Dio's exclusive ability should be his Stand—The World," Shiraha reasoned silently. "The power to halt time and move freely within that stillness."
Among Dio's arsenal, only that could qualify as an exclusive ability.
He turned his gaze toward Aizen. "This Hōgyoku... it doesn't seem to affect me at all."
It was strange. The Hōgyoku was supposed to manifest one's inner desire. Yet whether it was Urahara Kisuke's incomplete version or this perfectly fused one before him, neither had responded to Shiraha in any way.
He frowned faintly. "My Zanpakutō... I should be able to awaken it now."
His hand brushed the hilt at his waist. But before his thoughts could continue, a sudden pull surged from within his body—an invisible force drawing him inward.
The world flickered.
When he opened his eyes again, the ruined Las Noches had vanished. He stood instead in a vast, radiant space.
Before him rose a grand, ethereal palace—its golden eaves gleaming under a boundless sky. The air shimmered with spirit energy, serene and weightless.
And there, not far ahead, stood a woman.
She was tall and graceful, wearing a crimson kimono embroidered with gold. Her attire revealed her shoulders, her beauty both alluring and regal. Her eyes—deep and luminous—seemed to pierce straight into his soul. She sat upon an ornate chair as though waiting for him, poised and composed.
Though Shiraha had never seen her before, something within him stirred. There was familiarity—an inexplicable intimacy, as though they had known each other since the beginning.
Understanding dawned.
"So this is my Zanpakutō spirit," Shiraha murmured softly, smiling faintly. "And this space… my inner world."
He took a slow step forward, then another, each footfall echoing through the sacred stillness.
"Just as I thought," he said under his breath. "Once the third template awakens, so too does my true Zanpakutō."
The woman's lips curved gently as she looked up at him. Her voice was soft, warm, and carried a trace of ancient elegance.
"Master Shiraha," she said tenderly, "call my name. My name is…"
Her words resonated within him like a chime struck deep within the soul.
And then, the voice he had never heard before echoed clearly in his heart—
"Bai Yue."
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