Ichigo stood within the Irameron with his consciousness fully anchored back into his reconstructed body, and - without even really thinking about it – he looked down at his hands.
He flexed his fingers slowly, one at a time, watching with some minor, morbid fascination as he felt his own power stream through each individual cell. Honestly, he never really got used to the sensation of having to reenter the body, even back when he was a Shinigami.
There was just something so… limiting, about being in the physical realm. And with that thought came the amused realization that even at the age of fifteen Ichigo was losing his sense of humanity.
Nevertheless, he was glad to be back inside of his body, one that was fully honed and reinforced to bear the brunt of his colossal power. Well, that, and he was finally glad that he could leave this place.
He was miserable, being stuck in a closed off pocket dimension without access to the internet!
That being said…
Ichigo looked out towards the sea of demonic fire that filled the pocket dimension as it stretched out endlessly in every direction. For the casual observer, they would have been taken aback at how not a single flame flickered or moved; but given that Ichigo’s consciousness was no longer anchored in the localized space-time, all of it was now rendered inert.
Still, he thought it a rather impressive sight: a world-wide inferno that was frozen mid-roar, tongues of red and orange fire suspended in perfect stillness as though time itself had been caught and pinned in place beneath his will. Which it was. And yet, Ichigo couldn’t help but sense that something was off.
His eyes narrowed as he looked through the dimension carefully, and he soon caught it quickly.
Threaded through the inert blaze were flecks of gold, scattered unevenly throughout his infernal power like motes of dust caught in light, subtle enough that they couldn’t be caught by the physical eye, but more than apparent to his supernatural senses.
Ichigo tilted his head as he carefully observed the frozen gold, his attention snagged at some not-so distant familiarity.
Where have I seen this before?
And even as he finished that thought, the memory of the two Dead Kings and the ripples in the sea of golden time flashed through his mind. And Ichigo’s eyes widened in realization. It was Immortality, those tiny embers of gilded light were divine energy.
Which meant, he had taken another step towards the Fourth World, towards divinity.
And Ichigo felt a rush of triumph and joy as months of labor and training with Tiamat had finally shown tangible results! It was a minuscule amount of divine power, paltry and even pathetic compared to a True Immortal, but even this much was cosmically significant when compared to the rest of creation who couldn’t even touch the realm of Time.
Savagely, his mind drifted to the White Dragon Emperor, Vali Lucifer. That asshole wouldn’t be able to catch him by surprise in an exhausted state anymore!
Feeling rather pleased with himself, and more than a little relieved at the thought of finally returning to civilization, Ichigo twisted some magic and clad himself in clothes and then took a single step through the folds of reality.
And immediately he knew something had gone wrong.
Instead of the gaping chasms that ran beneath the Underworld and the hostile energies of demonic magic, warm light spilled over him, soft and languid. And as his eyes took in the light, he found himself standing on a quiet suburban street washed in the deep oranges and fading golds of sunset. For a moment he simply stood there, mouth slightly agape as though expecting the oppressive pressure of demonic stone and magma to greet him any second. But as those seconds ticked on, he only continued to be surrounded with telephone poles, tidy rooftops, and the distant hum of cicadas.
“…Huh,” Ichigo muttered under his breath.
He turned slowly, scanning his surroundings with a growing frown, and recognition settled in far too easily for his liking. He was in Karakura Town, or rather, a Karakura Town. The proportions were right, the streets all too familiar, each building was in place, but everything felt so…empty.
Like an echo of a memory, a very obvious simulacrum of his birthplace. Vaguely, he drew a comparison to the replica Soul Society had built to thwart Aizen’s attempt to build the Ōken.
Ichigo reached out reflexively, intent on tearing a hole through space and time to return to his realm… but nothing happened.
His brow furrowed as he tried again, this time with more insistence, only to be met with the same infuriating silence. For the briefest, deeply unwelcome second, a familiar sense of limitation crept around the edges of his awareness, tight and claustrophobic. Human, he felt human.
It was almost as if his powers had been sealed away. But no… he could still feel the titanic weight of demonic power from within; it was just silent. It refused to obey him.
The fuck is going on?
He clenched his jaw, and he understood it wasn’t that he took the wrong turn and accidentally got lost in reality. No, Ichigo easily recognized the signs of him having been kidnapped by some high power.
Not like this was the first time…
With a hefty sense of resignation, his feet carried him down the street with measured caution. But quick enough, the sound of running water reached him before he saw it, low and steady, and when the river came into view his steps slowed despite himself.
And his eyes beheld the flowing river, his mouth set grim with recognition. The only part of Karakura Town that he genuinely hated…
Ichigo stopped at the river’s edge, standing where his most wretched memory had taken place. Hands in his pocket, his eyes drifted to the slow current reflecting the sunset’s glow in bands of orange and gold. How ironic, he thought, that the river reflected the very colors he had seen in the Irameron as it uncaringly and ceaselessly flowed by.
Suddenly, a voice came softly from behind him. “Ichigo.”
Breathless, he turned.
His mother stood a few paces behind him, smiling softly, and for the briefest instant his eyes widened in genuine astonishment, he drunk in the sight of her. That same gentle softness of her jaw, the sorely missed warmth in the brown eyes he had inherited. The way her smile curved just so: radiant and filled with affection. Exactly as he remembered her, exactly as he had longed for, for so many these years.
And that was precisely why the rage came.
It surged into him cold and violent, crushing all sense of confusion and longing and leaving only the gaping wound of the fury of a Demon Lord. Distant and muted that his power felt in the moment, the Sin of Wrath roared to life nonetheless. It answered stronger now than it ever had, erupting through his soul like volcanic storm as hellish light bled into his gaze, his sheer force of will ripping through.
His voice, when he spoke, was deep and wrong, carrying the full weight of Satan’s mad hate.
“That’s the one face that would never fool me.”
His mother stood there silently, observing him with the same frozen smile, but a second later, her smile widened. And even through his anger, Ichigo felt a prickle of wrongness crawl up his spine. And then he heard it.
An audible crack that struck through the air.
Whatever this thing that was masquerading as his mother was, its skin and muscle pulled too far, its lips and cheek shifting and contorting in demented ways, well beyond the means for human flesh. Ichigo’s lips curled as the warmth and color vanished from her eyes as they bulged and steamed, letting out a stinging hiss.
In a disgusting and macabre fashion, they fell in on themselves, deflating like rubber and began to liquefy in their sockets, collapsing utterly and spilling down her face in thick streams of black ooze that stained her cheeks and throat.
And in that same moment, Karakura Town flickered, like an old TV flipping through channels of white noise; and buildings warped and snapped in and out of place as though reality itself were struggling to maintain cohesion.
Then that thing’s body began to convulse.
Its form swelled and distorted grotesquely beneath her clothes, bones snapping audibly as her arms twisted at sharp, impossible angles, joints folding back on themselves like bent paperclips, each movement accompanied by the wet, brittle sounds of something being broken without resistance.
Her spine folded sideways in a violent jerk, until her entire torso torqued unnaturally. Her head fully rotated with it until it hung upside down, and impossibly her hair cascaded still toward the sky rather than the ground.
And through all the monstrous violence, its smile only grew: stretching wider and wider until its cheeks tore and split open to reveal more of that lightless, viscous blackness. And like the hair, it didn’t drip downward and instead crept up against gravity, crawling back across her chin and onto her throat.
And every single repulsive second of it only served to further Ichigo's hatred at the profane mockery of his mother.
The abomination’s voice came out in a gurgle, like stone grinding in oil. “WE tHOUghT YoU’D fEEL mOrE coMforTABle wiTH tHIs FACe.”
Karakura Town vanished in an instant, the streets, the river, and the sky all tearing away like a magician’s cloth, leaving nothing behind but that thing. That vile charade with its inverted, atrocious visage filling his vision entirely.
Ichigo recoiled instinctively and tried to turn his head, to look anywhere else… but there was nowhere else.
No matter which way he faced, the abomination was pressed into his eyes, pushed into his sight at every angle, crowding even his peripheral vision until it eclipsed all sense of depth and distance. Even when he blinked his eyes shut, behind his eyelids he still saw the damned caricature, unmoving and grinning revoltingly. It was almost as if it had burned itself directly into his mind rather than exist in any space.
“THeRe’s OnLy mE heRE, noTHiNG ElsE. JUst nOThinG.”
And instantly Ichigo understood, and through clenched teeth he grounded out:
“Ophis.”
He staggered as a shrill, high-pitched whine tore through his ears, the sound so sharp it sent his sens eof balance reeling, and somewhere beneath conscious thought he knew - knew with awful certainty - that it was the sound of something vast and fundamental breaking.
And the thing wearing his mother’s shape swelled grotesquely. Its body bulging as though bursting from within itself until finally it ruptured in a violent detonation that sprayed black ooze in all directions, splattering across Ichigo’s clothes and skin and staining everything around in a endless darkness until nothing remained at all.
No ground, no sky. Just boundless black.
As he drifted there, Ichigo felt his very being tug and strain, an alien wrongness pulling at him from every direction all at once: each and every iota of his being screaming to tear itself free and flee, and with a cold, sinking comprehension, he realized he was no longer anywhere at all.
He was in the Void.
And in that same realization, something cold and sinuous slid across Ichigo’s shoulder,. He stiffened as he slowly looked down to find a black snake coiled there, its body moving with deliberate, almost languid familiarity.
Before he could react, its form began to unravel, scales dissolving into a drifting mist that clung to him for a heartbeat before condensing again, reshaping itself into a black-gloved hand. From that hand extended a pale arm, then another, the rest of the figure blooming into existence with unsettling ease, until a woman stood before him.
And she was impossibly beautiful: her skin so deathly pale as it seemed to absorb light, rather than give it. Her hair was black as the surrounding nothing, and the most luminous green eyes he had ever seen fixed on him as the Void of Nothingness stained like ink across her throat.
Ichigo’s breath would have caught in lungs, if he had any. Because he could almost feel himself fall into those eyes, it was like staring into mesmerizing twin pools. He couldn’t help but compare them to his Tiamat.
A lone and long gloved finger traced down from his temple and across his jaw, and the Infinite Ouroboros let out a hum, the sound echoing and reverberating in its throat.
“Hmm, aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” the Void purred as its eyes traced the shape of its face.
And despite the fact it was right there, despite the fact it was touching him, Ichigo couldn’t sense Ophis at all. As if it weren’t even there.
Those green eyes immediately jumped to his, and black lips curved faintly. “Because I am not here.”
And Ichigo nearly flinched. It’s reading my mind.
Ophis' hand fell, and it slowly pulled away from him, taking a ginger step back even as the unsetteling smile remained on its lips. And then it turned, but over its pale shoulder it looked at him, and a very, very small part of Ichigo’s still functioning mind wondered if that glance was supposed to look so hauntingly inviting.
Out of nothing, a four legged stool materialized and Ophis sat itself rather casually, eyes afixed to his as they danced in mild amusement. It leaned forward, and with an exaggerated pout said, “Why so glum, beloved?”
And that one word did cause Ichigo to flinch, because sapphire eyes, that he now realized were, far, far too similar to Ophis’, flashed through his mind.
Tentatively, Ichigo opened his mouth, feeling the muscles in his jaw tighten. And then, quietly but firmly, he said, “Don’t call me that.”
The curve of Ophis’ lips became sharper, and she leaned forward an inch more. “Why not? Sends shivers down your spine when dearest Tiamat does.”
Ichigo opened his mouth to respond only to find the words refusing to come. The hesitation caught him off guard, the hollow pause within his thoughts stretching uncomfortably long. And with a faint jolt of disbelief he came to understand a rather unnerving truth: he was afraid.
Him. Kurosaki Ichigo.
He, who had seen the literal worst of the darkest depths of Hell; horrors that couldn’t be described because there wasn’t a language in this or any other reality that had the vocabulary to even conceptualize what Hell contained.
And yet, here he was. In the presence (non-presence?) of the Infinite Ouroboros, with fear snaking its way into his soul. The realization sat heavy in Ichigo’s gut, bitter and unwelcome: that simple eye contact with Ophis was enough to unnerve even Satan.
The Divine Dragon only continued to smile at him, serene and unreadable, until Ichigo forced the feeling down, swallowed hard, and finally asked, “What do you want?”
Ophis' face morphed, portraying an obvious look of pity but Ichigo could easily see how fake and artificial the emotion was. Even so, the eldritch Dragon’s voice dripped patronizingly. “Poor little Ichigo. Has no idea how far out of his depth he is."
And despite how unsettled he was, Ichigo still felt a twinge of annoyance at being looked down on. But before he could voice said annoyance, the Dragon’s emerald eyes glowed fiercely.
I AM OPHIS
I AM OLDER THAN MEANING
The declaration alone damn near blasted him into oblivion. The sheer titanic power in its assertion unleashed such a crushing force that it nearly tore through body and soul alike, and not even Tsukiyomi’s divine assault had brushed him this close to shuffling off the mortal coil. And not just death, Ichigo could feel his existence stretch thin and flayed raw, every fragment of his being screaming as it hovered on the brink of complete dissolution.
And at the same time, nothing happened.
Because this was Ophis, and there was nothing there.
The Infinite Ouroboros then puffed out her cheeks in, dare he say, a cute looking pout. And it was in the shape of her cheeks and the aggrieved look in her eye that Ichigo saw a reflection of his Yasaka. “Ah, but darling, what is want?”
Ichigo shivered at the uncanniness, near identical to his wife’s mannerisms. And still the smile curved dangerous on its stained lips. Ophis then lightly raised its brows and spoke slowly, “Want… is discontent with the now. A tension between the present state and a potential state. I am never in the now, dear Ichigo. I am nothing. I want nothing."
Ophis was suddenly right in front of him, its face hovering inches from his own, so close that Ichigo could make out the faint and near microscopic strands of black in the green of its eyes. He could even see his own face staring back at him, reflected in the luminosity of her gaze.
But then, she hadn’t moved: he was certain of that. Not by speed or spatial displacement because, and as impossible as it was to comprehend, there was no space here. The very concept of a 'here' did not exist within the Void… such was the paradox of Ophis.
Slowly, almost painstakingly so, Ophis’ hand lifted and its fingers began to tap lightly in circles against the crown of his head. And despite the coldness that pervaded through him, he thought it was quite soothing and gentle. He was reminded of the back rubs he would frequently give to Yasaka or Tiamat whenever they curled up in his lap.
“Oh,” and its voice echoed condescendingly piteous. “I know how lost you are without those ridiculous little concepts like logic and reason. But I was everywhere and nowhere long before they came into being. And I am already there after they’re gone. But don't worry your handsome head about all that. What’s important is that you're here. With me.”
And then, without warning, Ophis pressed its lips to his in a firm, deliberate kiss. And it was in the cold taste of the Void that snapped something loose as Ichigo suddenly found his body answering him again. He stumbled back in disbelief, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.
All the while, Ophis put a hand to its hip and raised a challenging, judgmental brow against him. “Really Ichigo, must you be so uncouth? You’ll hurt a poor girl’s feelings, over-exaggerating like that.”
And his mouth twisted as he recognized Grayfia-nee’s tone and mannerisms. Finding his strength once more now that he could move his body, Ichigo scowled fiercely. “The Hell are you playing at?”
Ophis lifted its chin imperiously and walked around him in a semi-circle, and it was in the assuredness in the steps that he could almost hear the clack of heels that his former Queen always wore.
The Infinite Ouroboros peered at him through the corner of its eyes as it said sharply, "Now there's the word. Two actually." And its eyes burned in power as it tapped a finger to the lips. "Best avoid the H-one, dear Ichigo. Even outside of existence, that one still burns something fierce."
The stance of his feet widened, and Ichigo slowly pivoted as the Infinite Ouroboros continued to circle him. And, annoyingly, he could plainly see the amusement dancing in its eyes as it said, "But yes, playing. That's the one. It's all just a play; a story being told. Or maybe it’s being played? Stories that are played are not a play but are instead a game. Curious how that is, isn’t it? And they say I don’t make sense.”
Ichigo’s scowl deepened at the Dragon’s words.
He thought of the thousands of Sorcerers and Devils, and Katerea herself: all empowered well beyond their realms due to the blessing of the Void. And not just them, but the entirety of the Old Satan Faction according to the front-line reports he had been given by the other Satans. And beyond even that, according to the Soul King and Hades -Rhongomyniad had managed to pierce even into the Fourth World in the hands of the unworthy Kokabiel.
All of reality had been put into jeopardy because Ophis decided to play a game?
It filled him with an indignant fury.
“You putting that damn spear into Kokabiel’s hands had entire dimensions in jeopardy! You call that playing?” he seethed.
A finely dark eyebrow rose, and Ophis’ silent laughter only furthered his ire. "My, a rebuke of morality from Satan? I would say now I have seen everything, but honestly, that happened a very long time ago." Ophis then pointed with its delicate chin and said, “Be a dear and look over your shoulder, darling.”
Pushing down the vexation of having his anger ignored, Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he cast a suspicious gaze over to the side. And he was met with the sight of an odd-looking orb, no bigger than his fist, floating in the Void. He blinked in bewilderment. What on earth…?
The orb had an iridescent bluish glow that Ichigo, for the oddest reason, found soothing, almost welcoming. But that comfort was short lived as, when Ichigo’s senses touched the orb, he found himself being overwhelmed by a sudden torrent of information and sheer, unadulterated power.
He physically recoiled and took a step back, fighting the sudden lance of pain through his skull. But as he gripped his head with one hand, he found himself being held steady and Ichigo felt a sudden weight at his side. He quickly stiffened as he realized Ophis had latched onto his arm, its head resting against his shoulder as though the Dragon had done so before a thousand times. And its impossibly dark hair spilled across his clothes and skin, robbing them of color and even shape.
He frowned deeply and tried to pull away, only to find his body refusing him, and, once more, his enormous oceans of power were rendered still and static beneath the whims of the monster gripping his arm.
Rolling his jaw, Ichigo followed Ophis’ gaze back to the strange orb floating in the Void.
“Pretty little thing, is it not?" She remarked calmly.
Shifting his gaze between the Divine Dragon and - whatever the orb was, Ichigo asked, "What is it?"
"Home, dear Ichigo. Your home."
Ichigo blinked, confusion knitting his brow as he stared at the hovering orb, trying and failing to reconcile the impossible amount of power he could sense contained within. He had never felt something like it before. But before he could express his wonder, Ophis answered the thoughts in his mind. And he couldn't helpt but notice the false cheer draining from her voice. “It is your universe, beloved. Every world, every dimension and pocket reality across every star and galaxy, to infinity and beyond.”
Ichigo could only stare, awed and mystified in equal measure, his mind skidding uselessly against the sheer impossibility of Ophis’ words. A universe? An actual, friggin, infinite universe? And it was just contained and complete, reduced to something so small he could almost reach out and hold it?
With a numbing dread, he realized that this was the power of the Void Come, to render even an entire infinite universe to a thing so small and insignificant. Before he could stop himself, the first thought in his mind slipped from his tongue. “The universe is blue.”
“What a keen sense of observation you have,” Ophis said dryly, but Ichigo couldn’t help but notice the undercurrent of levity within its voice.
He stopped himself from rolling his eyes and then said, more to himself than the eldritch monster on his arm, “I get the feeling the universe isn’t actually this small.”
“It is from where I’m looking,” Ophis said lightly. “But yes, given how slow you’ve been in acclimating to existing outside of time,” and Ichigo immediately scowled heavy. He wasn’t slow! Tiamat said he was well beyond the learning rate of others, fitting centuries of training into months! Yes, it was going slower than his previous training sessions for other powers, but it wasn’t slow! He was – and Ichigo caught sight of Ophis’ twitching lips and his scowl deepened. He realized it was still reading his mind and had just said that to get a rile out him.
“And so easy it is too, to get your worked up, dear,” it said, leaning heavier on his arm. “But yes, for that annoyingly limited linear perspective of yours, I scaled down infinity to the size of a tennis ball.”
Ichigo nodded to himself in understanding. No wonder he was so easily overcome when he tried to wrap the orb in his senses, it was literally an infinite amount of information and energy that he had tried to take into his consciousness. To process infinity, he wasn’t quite at that level… yet.
However, even as he had that thought, Ichigo noticed that the universe suddenly pulsed a faint glow, and the blue light within began to shift and meld into a cacophony of colors, all swirling about chaotically.
“What just happened?” he asked as he scrutinized the orb curiously.
“Nothing too drastic, I merely zoomed out,” Ophis replied offhandedly.
“…zoomed out?”
“Quite, dearest. Before, you were looking at your little slice of eternity. A single timeline across infinite space. Now, you’re seeing every single timeline, all the different pasts, the congruent presents and the ever-churning and endless futures. Possibility anon reality.”
And slowly, almost painstakingly, Ichigo dragged his eyes away from the multicolored ball to the nonchalant expression of Ophis. And after a solid five seconds passed, Ichigo looked back at the orb as he struggled to cognize the utter scale of what she had just said.
“The multiverse,” he said hoarsely.
“A multiverse,” Ophis said pointedly.
A? What do you mean ‘a’? He yelled into the confines of his own mind, knowing full well he would be heard.
But instead of answering him, Ophis merely smiled mysteriously and jutted her chin back towards the glowing orb, back towards the effing multiverse. “Note the gilded light both surrounding and permeating your multiverse. What do you make of it, dear?”
Trying to push past the sudden whiplash of literally being presented all of eternity, Ichigo peered at the golden glow that Ophis had pointed out. And, if he were being honest, there was something faintly familiar about it. A very recent familiarity at that too. But where had he…?
And his eyes widened a fraction as he recalled his conversation with the two Dead Kings and the empyrean golden sea that had surrounded them.
Time - and the True Immortals who sat beyond it as they watched and shaped eternity through their Wills.
“The Fourth Dimension,” Ichigo said quietly.
Ophis let out a throaty hum, her lips pressing into thin line as she hugged his arm tighter. “Oh, but I do like a man who has a brain behind a good-looking face… or in front of, I have never been too picky when it comes to anatomy.” But then it motioned towards the endless black of the Void and softly commanded, “But look what else there is.”
Ichigo followed the motion of her pale arm, and his breath caught as a distant glimmer bloomed out of the surrounding black, a lone orb coalescing far beyond his reach. Before he could properly fix its measure in his mind, another emerged beside it, then another still - each manifestation silent and effortless, as though eternity after eternity were being carelessly dotted into place.
His eyes widened as the darkness around them began to fill, countless orbs taking shape in every direction, some near, some impossibly distant, and all of them radiating that same unfathomable weight he had felt from his own corner of existence.
And the tide of understanding washed over him with a crushing and grinding horror as all sense of proportion and scale finally collapsed. An incessant and ceaseless cascade of eternities surrounded him and Ophis, not just beyond the eye, but utterly beyond even his preternatural senses.
“Lucifer,” he breathed in marvel.
“He wishes,” Ophis said sardonically by his side. “But congratulations, beloved, you have just seen everything.”
Ichigo could only continue to stare, jaw hanging uselessly open as his thoughts stumbled and tangled over one another, coherence failing to connect some sort of rationale as he stood there witnessing what was far beyond even his expanded capacity to understand.
An omniverse.
He had always known it had existed; he had even traversed through it in his capacity of hunting Sinners for Hell through other realities… but to have, literally all of existence and what lay beyond lain bare before him….
Even seated upon the throne of Satan, Ichigo knew he was so far, far over his head.
Ophis reached out without hesitation and pressed two fingers beneath his chin, gently snapping his mouth shut.
“Try not to think too hard, dear,” it said condescendingly. “I’m already filtering your perceptions for you. Otherwise, being confronted with so many paracausal infinites would reduce you to, well, me.”
Ichigo felt his mouth dry and he swallowed in emotion as he continued to stare at the unending and shifting realities floating around him. It was all just… just… so much. And so very eerily beautiful. A part of him felt that if he continued to stare at the ever-increasing number multiverses, he’d find himself going mad.
“…why are you showing this to me?” He finally asked after, what seemed like hours, had passed. Even though, impossibly, there was no such concept of Time in the Void.
Ophis smiled again, but this time the expression sent a chill down Ichigo’s spine, because there was no playfulness in it, no teasing levity - only something demanding and expectant.
And he was reminded of Tiamat just before she sunk her fangs into her prey, of Yasaka as she gleefully ensnared a political rival in one of her many schemes. Ophis tilted its head slightly, in a subtle and unnatural way, and with its voice echoing said, “Look down.”
Reluctantly, Ichigo turned his gaze down to the abyss.
At first he beheld nothing. Just the unending black of the Void stretching beneath him, depthless and absolute, offering no sense of distance or orientation. The absence continued to press in on him, and his eyes flicked back and forth through the dark, searching for whatever it was that the Divine Dragon was wanting him to see. Ophis spoke again, its tone sharper and a touch harsher.
“Focus.”
He frowned and drew on his power, letting it bleed into his eyes as he pushed his senses outward, past the stubborn darkness and into whatever lay beneath it. For a moment there was only resistance - but then he felt it. A faint sensation at first, barely perceptible - like a distant ember buried far below the granite bed. But it grew quickly, swelling into something hotter and heavier, until warmth gave way to burning, and burning became a vast, terrible inferno that made his eyes burn.
That same inferno that answered from within his Soul.
“Hell,” Ichigo said, the word leaving him on instinct, and in response the glow below flared darker, the fire sharpening into a searing radiance.
Ophis clicked her tongue softly. “Careful, dear. I told you already, even in the nothing of me that one burns.”
Ichigo lifted his gaze back to her, brow knit tight as unease gave way to confusion. “I think I’m missing some context.”
Ophis’ smile widened, still so devoid of emotion, and it never once broke eye contact as it reached out into the surrounding black, its gloved fingers closing around one of the distant orbs as it drifted obediently into her hand.
And all sense left Ichigo as he watched, frozen, as that multiverse pulsed faintly in the Dragon’s grip, its swirling colors churning in silent complexity - countless worlds, endless histories and possibilities - until a creeping darkness began to seep across its surface.
The hues dulled and then vanished altogether, swallowed whole as the orb turned uniformly black, collapsing inward before dissolving completely, its substance unraveling and flowing back into the Void as though it had never been there.
Ichigo went rigid.
His gaze locked on her now-empty hand, his thoughts frozen still as the truth forced itself upon him with numbing clarity. An entire multiverse - an infinity of pasts, presents, and futures - had just been erased.
Completely and utterly gone. Removed so thoroughly that even the memory of it being in Ophis hand began to fade from his mind. And as he dragged his horrified gaze back to the eldritch terror, he realized that it was allowing Ichigo to keep the memory of it having retroactively erased an entire eternity, a multiverse, like it had never been there.
Ichigo felt his breath freeze in lungs as he realized Ophis was no longer smiling.
There was no subtle shift, he could see the abrupt and cracklike change in its demeanor. And it ripped through him like the crash of thunder, the the Divine Dragon suddenly loomed before him, unnaturally tall, its presence distorting and causing the multiverses around them to shake and quiver. And Ophis rose back like a serpent, towering over him, and not just physically, but the very idea, the very concept, of him as a being.
The pallor of its skin became so deeply wrong and pale that, like a gravitational pull on his entire existence and history, he could feel the very essence of his being wanting to tear apart and smear itself across the Dragon’s paleness - like grisly pigments on a portrait. And then its emerald eyes narrowed, collapsing into serpentine slits so horrifying identical to the way his Tiamat’s did, and dread settled cold and heavy in his chest.
“Dear Tiamat already told you not to use the First Flame against me. Consider this an elaboration of why.” The Divine Dragon’s voice echoed in his mind as it stepped forward until their chests touched, and Ichigo felt Hell itself vibrate within him, his Soul trembling with a force he had never known it could feel. “All of it, all of it, sits inside me. I am the blank canvas upon which creation is painted. You will not survive a conflict between the Void and the Fire. Understand?”
Ichigo swallowed hard and managed a stiff nod. And instantly the crushing presence receded, though his body and mind were still locked in place, as the towering cosmic serpent folded back into the shape of the pale, beautiful woman with luminous green eyes.
Keeping his arms from shaking, Ichigo remembered the suspicion that Hell could burn even the Nothingness of the Void... but if a confrontation between Ophis and Hell really were to take place, Ichigo glanced at the countless sequence of multiverses adrift around him. Fuck, everything would be destroyed.
Everything.
Ophis smiled again, light and almost playful, as it patted his cheek in a way that felt patronizing… but almost motherly? His heart hammered painfully in his chest, fear still coursing through his veins, and before he could stop himself, he asked, “Why don’t you just kill me then?”
She regarded him with indulgent amusement. “That is not how this story goes, dear. Besides, there is a part of me that really, really likes you.” She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him before he could respond and said with a touch of strictness. “Don't turn your head, Ichigo, but look to your left.”
Having no desire to tempt it’s ire, Ichigo swiftly obeyed and shifted his gaze out the corner of his eyes to the left, and instantly he caught sight of a fierce red glow blooming at the edge of his vision. It flared with impossible intensity, a deep, violent crimson star that felt horrifying in its power as it surged and consumed everything in its path, surrounding and filling the Void in its entirety.
Which is impossible because you can’t fill zero, Ichigo thought to himself, alarmed.
The light throbbed once, resonating through everything it touched, including him and, just as suddenly, it dimmed and collapsed in on itself, fading away and leaving the blackness of the Void.
“Keep looking,” Ophis urged, a hint of anticipation in its echoing voice.
And as Ichigo narrowed his gaze, he caught sight of a new orb that hovered in the darkness. Its surface swirling with quickly fading red light that melted away into a radiant gold, all the while, a subtle motion of countless other colors took shape and swirled chaotically. Ichigo stared at it in stunned silence as the implication settled heavily over him.
A brand-new multiverse had been created. Before Ichigo's very eyes, a new eternity had unfolded, and already entire histories and infinite futures had happened, as if that multiverse had always been there from the beginning. Which, by virtue of Eternity, he supposed it had been.
I...I... his mind refused to form any sort of coherent thought. He had just seen an eternity destroyed only to be instantly be replaced by another one.
If anything, Ichigo was mentally exhausted now of having his mind blown so frequently in rapid succession. He supposed he should be thankful to Ophis for keeping him from unraveling into insanity, at the same time, it was the Infinite Ouroboros’s fault any of this was even happening!
“Was that…?”
“My Other,” Ophis said. “Does not take kindly to being stared at, that one. Likes its privacy.”
He recalled a conversation he had with Grayfia years ago now, back when he was a newly minted Devil still learning the ways of the supernatural world. She had told him that Ophis and the Great Red could annihilate all four Satans in the span of minutes. How wrong she had been. How comically, horrifically wrong.
There was no possible way, even if every single Devil and Demon in the Empire were to apotheosize and claim True Immortality, could they so much as inconvenience either of the two Divine Dragons. The two could erase all they ever were without so much as a single thought, and they would be helpless to do anything.
Fucking Hell…
Which begged the question, the things with Rhongomyniad, with Tiamat and Millicas, with Yasaka and the Norse pantheon… “Why are things as insanely powerful as you even paying attention to someone like me?” He asked, brows furrowed in bewilderment.
Ophis reached out and pinched his cheek as it said in a condescending coo, “Oh, it is honestly so cute how important you think you are. Beloved, we pay attention to everything. Even the things beneath your notice. You are not that special, darling.”
And while Ichigo believed the eldritch Dragon, there was still some element of doubt within his mind, “Then Khaos Brigade and Tsukiyomi?”
Ophis gave him a patronizing smile. “Oh, do not even try it, my dear. Whatever that part of myself wants to do, I shan’t spoil it.”
Ichigo blinked, perplexed at its words. “That part of yourself? There are multiple versions of you? Do you have multiple personalities, or different aspects like the Hindu Triumvirate?”
Ophis shook its head, a mocking laughter lighting its emerald eyes. “Oh, there you go again with that ridiculous sense of linearity. I have no mind, dear Ichigo. I have no consciousness, no definition nor any limitation. I am nothing, thus I can be anything. Do not try to apply reason to me. You think you are seeing me? You think you are hearing me? This is naught but a projection into your feeble, little mind. I would burn you into nothingness if I truly manifested onto your pitiful existence.”
About to insist that it tell him what the - apparently separate but same - Ophis wants from him and his ridiculously tiny piece of the creation, Ichigo was cut off when this Ophis pinched its fingers and he suddenly found himself without a voice.
“You are going to wake up soon,” the Void said, “and you are going to have no memory of this encounter. No, do not bother protesting. Even now, I am holding you together. Your very existence is splitting at the seams as it cannot withstand this much exposure to me. A mere memory of me is too much for you.”
That froze the ranting protest in Ichigo’s mind fast. Lucifer, even a simple memory of Ophis or the Great Red would undo him?
“But do not worry,” Ophis continued, “You will wake up just fine and the same as before our little rendezvous. With the slight addition of a reinforced notion to never use that nasty little campfire sitting in your Soul against me. Ah, but do be sure to give dearest Tiamat my love.”
Ichigo grimaced as he furiously complained inside of his own mind. How am I supposed to do that if I can’t remember!
Ophis gave him an infuriating look of total pity. “It really is adorable how slow you are, beloved, but do stop trying to apply logic and sense to me.”
I AM OPHIS
I AM ANTECEDENT TO BEING
The numbing cold of the Void coiled ready, it’s mouth gaping and filled with thousands of needle-like and jagged teeth, and Ichigo could do nothing as the Infinite Ouroboros swallowed him whole. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell endlessly into the silent nothing.
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Azazel sat idle and content on the banks of a glistening creek, a simple and old wooden fishing rod in his hands. Beyond the creek were verdant and rolling hills and small clouds of blue butterflies floating over them. The sun in the sky is far and bright but not hot nor oppressive, but perfect radiance of warmth, tempting him to close his eyes and slumber his days away.
And Azazel had always been weak to temptation.
Behind him was a great forest, thick and teeming with an abundance of life. None that would ever be found on the Earth. And Azazel sat comfortably in the silence, having forgone the worries of the countless conflicts raging across time and space that so usually took up his attention.
But then, there was a subtle swing in the world: the grass stood a little taller, a little greener. The crystal-like water shone with dappled sunlight a touch brighter, and the gurgle of the water as it washed over the smooth stone below echoed a touch more happy.
With a soft and merry chuckle, Azazel gave an experimental tug of his old fishing rod. “Hello, brother.”
Michael, High Seraph and Stalwart Saint of the White City, stepped beside him, his radiant and beautiful face mirroring the mirth of the Fallen Lord. “Hello, brother,” he echoed.
“What brings you here?” Azazel said, even as his focus remained on the creek before.
Michael shook his head, the golden gleam of his hair scattering and filling the surroundings with a serene sense of immense strength and profound calm. “You have snuck into the Gardens of Eden yet ask what I am doing here?”
Azazel gave a careless shrug, even as he felt the weight of eons slip away, and a near return to far simpler times where he thought less and obeyed more. “What can I say? I missed my old fishing spot. Remember that time Haniel tripped and fell face-first into the stream?”
The Seraph gives a rueful chuckle. “You seem to be conveniently omitting what - or rather who - tripped her in the first place.”
“Am I?” Azazel said with a mischievous laugh. “What can I say? My memory is failing in my old age.”
“I am the elder between us, and my memory seems to be just fine,” Michael pointed out. But then the Seraph’s mood dimmed just a touch and the levity in his voice left. “We have received a missive from the Underworld, Ajuka has sent your notes back.”
And even so far removed from his vile presence, the touch of Eden’s light dimmed a minute fraction at the mention of the Sin of Greed.
Azazel let out a thoughtful hum. “Did he now?”
“Yes, and rather heavily edited too. They are scrawled with his own commentary and observations. Raphael claims his penmanship is nearly as bad as yours.”
The Fallen Lord let out an annoyed sigh, and he dismissed his fishing rod as he floated to his feet. “It’s not that bad and you know it, you all just never let me live down the time I lost to Metatron in that calligraphy contest. And really? He scribbled all over my notes instead of just attaching a separate copy? Kids these days, I swear. No respect for their elders.”
“You are hardly the paragon of filial piety, yourself, ‘Azaazeel.” Michael’s ironic tone brought Azazel’s gaze towards his brother, and there was witty reply on his tongue, but as soon as he caught sight those golden eyes, the memory of an identical stare alight with maniacal rage and hatred flashed into his mind. And Azazel quickly looked away.
But he still caught the brief downturn of his radiant brother’s lips.
“Right,” he said quickly, brushing the nonexistent dirt from his robes. “Let’s go see what that brat has come up with and see if we can run some maintenance on the System.”
And, as he began to glide back towards the immaculate walls of the White City, Michael called after him, though he did not dare to look back.
“They are growing powerful, ‘Azaazeel… too powerful. And too quickly.”
Azazel agreed.
The centuries of Ajuka and Sirzechs looming in the shattered remnants of Lucifer’s empire had been frought with perilous caution, both of them being more powerful and dangerous than his deranged brother by a magnitude. But now a third one, almost as powerful as the other two, had joined their ranks. And that wasn’t even counting Serafall and Falbium who were as strong as both he and Michael. The Crown Princes of Hell were growing at an alarming rate, and they were no longer content to sit within their partition of the Underworld.
They were growing more belligerent and imperialistic. He had never imagined the new reconstructed Devil Empire would be the one to reignite the civil war amongst their own kind, striking so decisively against the original Satans’ descendants and followers.
On one hand, he admired Sirzechs’ approach of governance. Unlike his predecessor, he was focused on building what he already had, instead of being hellbent on destroying what others possessed. And though tensions still ran high between the respective Fallen and Devil controlled territories of the Underworld; Sirzechs’ reign had hugely decreased the conflicts and bloodshed from millennia’s past.
On the other hand… had the previous Crown Princes’ Houses retained their sovereignty, he was quite certain they Devils would have warred themselves into extinction by this point. Yes, it would have been disastrous for the Fallen and Angels, but he was certain they could have survived the continued wars while the Devils utterly ruined themselves. Pragmatically speaking, the extinction of the Devil race was a good thing. They, and especially their Demon progenitors, were abominations, anathema to all living things. They had no place in any cosmology.
Alas, Lucifer’s madness survived and thrived, mutating and growing in ways Azazel doubted even his insane older brother could have ever conceived. Sirzechs, Ajuka, Ichigo… and then the fourth one who hid himself away in shadows, content in Lucifer’s ancient bastions. Or perhaps Rizvem wasn’t content? Perhaps his nephew was as equally demented as his father but possessed the patience and cunning Lucifer had lost after his pact with the First Flame.
Regardless, Azazel found it all so very sad. That Lucifer’s legacy, something that had begun with so much glorious promise, end with so much unhinged depravity.
Michael’s voice broke him out of his musings. “The youngest of the five is growing at a disturbing pace, and he is aided with the wisdom of a Primordial. How long will it be before he surpasses the other two? How long will it be until he steps into the thresholds of divinity, and then lifts the other two? Empowering the whole race and upsetting all of eternity as Demons form a genuine pantheon?”
Azazel stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark robes and looked up at the sky with a profound sigh. “What do you want me to say, Meeka-El? I can spout some sophistry about how it’s natural for the new to surpass the old, but that naturalness doesn’t address the very unnatural them. Or, perhaps, we can gather the combined arsenals of both Heaven and the Grigori and hurl it all at the Underworld, destroying that plane of existence in its entirety and sending each and every single Devil and Demon straight into the depths of Hell.
“But then, what would become of us? How many of us would even remain? And what if any of the current Sins managed to survive? We would just end up repeating the conflicts of old and I am as tired of wars as you are, brother. All you and I can do is put in the utmost effort for our respective kind, even as we pray and hope for the best.”
“Hope,” And Azazel froze, as he hadn’t heard such a bleak tone from Michael in eons… not since the Fall. “Is there Hope, ‘Azaazeel? And what then, do you pray to, my Grace-lost sibling?”
Hnn, there was a question he had asked himself many times since the conclusion of the Great War. Ever since he watched with unrestrained horror as Albion and Ddraig consumed his Father with Fire and Venom in their own death throes, he had long since wondered if their mythos would burn out one day.
“When I Fell,” he said slowly, “and you begged me to return to the White City while saying that Father would forgive me if I repented, I asked you the same thing. Back then, you told me there’s always hope.” And as Michael gave him a stunned look at the reminder, Azazel gave a casual shrug. “Besides, it’s Father. Wouldn’t be first time he pulled a resurrection.”
And as Michael’s joy surged and all of Heaven answered him in a golden radiance, Fell Azazel flinched from the unrestrained sanctity. “Oi! I’m standing right here!” He then sighed as he flew back to White City, grumbling beneath his breath. “I get no respect!”
=======
Ichigo felt a rush of triumph and joy as months of labor and training with Tiamat had finally shown tangible results! It was a minuscule amount of divine power, paltry and even pathetic compared to a True Immortal, but even this much was cosmically significant when compared to the rest of creation who couldn’t even touch the realm of Time.
Savagely, his mind drifted to the White Dragon Emperor, Vali Lucifer. That asshole wouldn’t be able to catch him by surprise in an exhausted state anymore!
Feeling rather pleased with himself, and more than a little relieved at the thought of finally returning to civilization, Ichigo twisted some magic and clad himself in clothes and then took a single step through the folds of reality.
And immediately he saw the gigantic chasm that housed the entrance of his inner sanctum. And as the ambient magic of the Underworld hit him, Ichigo frowned momentarily. Inexplicably, Ichigo felt that something was off. Something… not quite right.
But as he looked about, and his senses filled and flooded through his realm, and his mind felt Tiamat’s cool touch meld back perfectly into place, dismissed it as nothing more than just a momentary dissonance brought upon being corporeal again.
Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he looked up as the four Imperators, the most powerful of his Reavers, swiftly flew down and landed before him, kneeling in submission. Reavers had no language of their own, communicating with each other instead in a limited psychic capacity, so Ichigo pushed emotions of satisfaction and gratitude into their minds.
And, while he could have vocally expressed his appreciation (Reavers could understand language even if they couldn’t speak it) the mental ‘good job’ he gave them meant far more to them than any sound he could make.
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed them, and all four of them teleported away, back to roost in the bowels of Iravex.
Taking a deep breath - and didn’t that feel good? Having air in his lungs again. – Ichigo quickly ran through a mental checklist of what he had to do.
First things first, he would drop by Kyoto and reunite with his girls to let them know he was back in full. Then he and Amaterasu needed to have a serious conversation. He needed to let her know he was no longer the knife in her hand… but he was absolutely going to tear Tsukiyomi apart and sink the Shinto Moon into the depths of Hell, so if Takamagahara intended to get in the way, they needed to know Ichigo was not above waging war with his army of Reavers behind his back.
And once he was done giving the Sun a piece of his mind, he had to return to the Underworld and let his fellow Satans know he was heading to the frontlines against the Old Satan Faction and Khaos Brigade. He had quite a bit of venting to do. Speaking of which, didn’t Sera say something about Katerea Leviathan being captured and transferred into his custody?
He frowned to himself, why didn’t they just kill her themselves? What was he even supposed to do with the delusional she-Devil? Ichigo sighed to himself, just one more problem he had to deal with.
Oh, and he also had to deal with the nobles in Infernity at the end of this week and put the fear of Satan into the Empire. Be the ‘play-ground bully’ as Grayfia-nee had so artlessly had put it. At the thought of bullying, Ichigo then also remembered the two castaway heiresses and their peerages he had unleashed a monster sunflower on… he wondered if they had managed to defeat the mutant flower or had been rendered homeless.
Best send Meril a message to check in with Gobdad.
Oh, crap, he had also promised Yuzu he would take her and Karin to beach in the upcoming weeks! The Hell was his clone thinking! How was he supposed to fit that into his already packed schedule?
Fuck! I need a vacation!
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A/N: This was a fun chapter, writing an Eldritch Outer Entity that's above and beyond conceptual existence was a fulfilling challange. It's not often I get to go so cosmically over the top with characters. What I particularly enjoyed, was writing Ophis as a non-being, it has no set character or personality. So having it take from Ichigo's mind elements of the women in his life: Yasaka, Tiamat, Grayfia - and if you paid close attention - even Amaterasu.
Azazel and Michael (rightfully) worrying about the ever growing power of the Demons was also something I've been meaning to do. Ajuka creating the Brave Saint system is just addressing a symptom. That empitness in the throne of Heaven needs to be filled... where have I heard that line before?
Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it.