Ichigo arrived at the house in Grevex at an unhurried pace, Gobdad trotting along beside him while Mayor Gaurum staggered several steps behind, wheezing loudly enough that many pedestrians passing by gave him looks of concern. As for Tiamat, she had long since abandoned them after having had her fill of ice cream. Lucifer, he had never felt so much pity for a waiter as he did the poor young woman who ran back and forth, delivering a new bowl of ice cream for Tiamat just as she managed to finish the previous one.
He then cast a backwards glance at the mayor’s flushed face and heaving chest and had to suppress a chuckle. In a moment of schadenfreude, Ichigo had deliberately chosen to walk to the house, instead of teleporting. If Gaurum was going to insist on being an unrepentant kiss-ass, Ichigo was going to make sure he’d suffer for it. At least, in some minor fashion.
But he dismissed his own thoughts and focused on what was before him as he reached the edge of the yard.
Both of his brows climbed high.
The house looked significantly worse than what he remembered last. It had never been particularly charming – by design - but now it looked like a genuine ruin. Half the roof seemed to have been ripped away, and all the windows were cracked and shattered, and fragmented wood and torn masonry littered all around the house.
Huh, he thought. That sunflower did more than I expected. Way more…
Behind him, Gaurum finally caught up, doubling over with his hands on his knees before forcing himself upright with theatrical effort. But even through his exhaustion he grimaced with distaste and said, “My word, what a miserable eyesore! I cannot believe my city hosts such a dreadful mess! Fret not, my Prince! I shall have this monstrosity demolished at once, and its owner fined and jailed!”
“I’m the owner,” Ichigo said plainly.
Gaurum froze for a heartbeat, then beamed.“And what a magnificent monstrosity it is! Such delightful artistry expressed in ruin! A grand testament to your brutal and overwhelming might, my Prince!”
Ichigo merely rolled his eyes and continued forward.
He stepped onto the porch and reached for the door. The knob turned easily in his hand… and then there was a swift click as the handle neatly broke away.
Eh?
And in near slow motion, the entire door tipped backward with a tired groan before crashing flat inside the entryway without ceremony.
He didn’t even have time to react as from somewhere within, an irritated voice suddenly shouted, “The stupid door fell again! And it’s not my turn to fix it!”
Ichigo stared at the empty frame, still holding the knob, but after a moment, he shook his head in laughter.
Ichigo stepped over the fallen doorframe and into the house, the warped wood creaking beneath his shoes as he moved through the dim interior. The damage was even worse from the inside. Entire sections of plaster had collapsed, exposing splintered beams and large patches of the roof where the magical light of the sky filtered through like ironic beams of mercy.
One wall leaned at a precarious angle, held upright by nothing that looked remotely structural, and he found himself wondering with detached curiosity how the entire place hadn’t simply collapsed already.
It was honestly kind of impressive, really.
From deep within the house, he heard voices strident and tired carry into his ears, and he followed them down the hall toward the kitchen.
There he found Rias, Sona, Akeno, and Tsubaki gathered around a battered old table, their posture slouched and their expressions rife with exhaustion and defeat. Shadows pooled beneath their eyes, their expressions drawn thin with fatigue. He also noted how casually they were dressed.
Rias and Akeno wore tight spaghetti-strap tops and hotpants that left a lot of their skin exposed. The complete opposite: Sona and Tsubaki had donned jeans and oversized shirts that were clearly not brand new and had seen quite a bit of wear and tears. He nodded to himself at the sight of their near destitute appearance… it was a far cry from their previous life of immense wealth and luxury.
“…we need to do something,” Sona insisted, rubbing her temple, her face twisted as if in physical pain. “It was bad enough before, but with our living space drastically cut down even more, friction and tensions between house members is getting worse.”
“We could fix the house magically,” Akeno offered.
But Rias shook her head and said, “The magical circuitry and the runic foundation of the house have been damaged, and unless you suddenly gained a degree in magical engineering while I wasn’t looking, any half-hearted magical repairs will only see the whole structure collapse on our heads.”
Akeno sighed despondently. “Well, I’m out of ideas then, because hiring actual help will cost money. You heard Gobdad earlier, the repair costs would take tens of thousands of bloodstones, minimum. Money we absolutely don’t have.”
And as Akeno’s words settled, all four girls let out a tired sigh. Ichigo held back his own laughter at the synchronized dismay as he crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.
And it was at that moment Tsubaki said, “What about Lord Ichigo? Do you think we can get him to help?”
“Help?” Sona repeated doubtfully.
“What Sona said,” Akeno said as she gave a sharp nod. “That man is more likely to make our lives more difficult than actually give us any sort of help.”
Ichigo scowled, that wasn’t true. …well, not entirely.
“I think he’d help if we reached out to him,” Rias said quietly, which caused Akeno to glare at her.
“Rias, please,” the Gremory Queen said, “Sometimes I think you’d be okay with that man using us as breathing carpets to walk on so long as he gave you pat on the head at the end of it.”
Rias’ cheeks flushed as red as her hair. “That’s not true!” She protested hotly.
Akeno flicked her long hair and scoffed, “Uh-huh. He invites you over for a dinner date one time and now you can’t help but make googly eyes whenever he’s brought up!”
As Rias began to sputter, Sona let out a tired sigh. “In fairness, I was also invited into her personal living space for dinner with my sister. Just as Rias was invited to dinner with her older brother and his family. I’d hardly consider that a ‘date’ by any definition.”
“Umm,” Tsubaki said hesitantly, “I think we’ve digressed.”
“I agree,” Ichigo said dryly.
All four of them jolted in their seats as they whirled around to look at him, and quick enough, chairs scraped loudly as the four scrambled upright. Words tangled over themselves as they bowed in hurried succession, muttering formal greetings while trying -unsuccessfully - to smooth their hair and tug their clothes into something resembling dignity.
Ichigo watched the fluster with poorly hidden amusement.
Behind him, Gaurum’s heavy footsteps thudded into the kitchen, and there were curious gazes exchanged as the monstrously overweight Devil and the four teenage girls observed one another. But the moment was quickly broken as Gaurum turned towards him and began to fawn all over, this time with exaggerated pity.
“Oh, my Prince! How my heart bleeds for you! That you would be forced to hide your mistresses in such a ruin, away from the terrifying gaze of Lady Tiamat! Truly tragic. Still,” he added, lowering his voice quite conspiratorially as he sneaked glances at the young women, “had you only told me, I could have arranged companions of far finer pedigree. While I admit their beauty, it does not behoove your lofty station to make do with these common street harlots.”
At once, all four girls blushed furiously.
“M-m-mistresses!?” Rias sputtered.
“H-harlots!?” Sona echoed, scandal and fury colliding in her voice.
Once again, Ichigo rolled his eyes and pointed at the two young Kings. “They’re my wards – introducing Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri, the respective younger sisters of Sirzechs and Serafall.”
Gaurum froze for but a second before his jowls flapped as he smiled wide, a rather grotesque sight in Ichigo’s opinion. “Baronet Glint Gaurum, Lord Mayor of the Resplendent City of Grevex under the august rule of His Highness Ichigo! I am at your service, my ladies!”
Ichigo snorted at how quick Gaurum switched to brown-nosing, and the two heiresses didn’t seem all that convinced either of his sudden words.
“Right,” Ichigo drawled, “before anything else - Gobdad!”
Given that Gaurum stood behind Ichigo and blocked the entire hall with his girth, the diminutive goblin was forced to literally scale the fat Devil like a mountain.
“Gah! Get off me you miserable creature!” The mayor exclaimed as he struggled to swipe and reach for the climbing goblin. As Gobdad reached the mayor’s shoulders, he jumped off, did a perfect summersault in the air and landed directly before Ichigo with a sharp salute.
“Kos, Boss!”
Somewhat impressed with the goblin’s athleticism, nevertheless Ichigo pressed on with his plan. “Give me an update on the property damages, will you?”
And at those words, the girls paled considerably.
“Lord Ichigo-”
“Sir-”
“We can explain-”
“It wasn’t our fault-”
But Ichigo merely pressed a single finger to his lips, and they helplessly fell silent as Gobdad began his summary. “Eh… doodoo house even bigger doodoo now! Roof half gone, backyard blown up, all windows be broke, attic gone, back wall be destroyed and big wood to hold up house smashed. Gobdad think house about to fall down, not safe here.”
Ichigo raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”
Gobdad looked at him in confusion and scratched the back of his head for a moment. “Uhh… house foundation be damaged too. Magic lines be messed up and plumbing be broken too. Actually, Gobdad be thinking everything broken.”
“Everything, huh?” Ichigo asked as he turned a neutral gaze towards the four girls who shrank in on themselves. “Sixteen of you together couldn’t keep the house safe?”
“We-we,” Sona began but kept falling over words as her eyes darted across the floor, desperate searching for an answer. And Rias had resorted to biting her own finger nervously.
As he continued to stare down the girls, he could feel their growing concern and dread, they were terrified that he’d explode in anger again. But finally, after a while, he sensed a flicker of fear spark into resentment and Akeno stomped her foot and exclaimed, “It wasn’t our fault! There were all sorts of weird magical anomalies happening in the city and one of them just happened to be in our backyard. That damn overgrown flower was on the upper cusps of High-class, bordering Ultimate! We were outmatched and under attack and the city guards did nothing to help us!”
And as the Fallen-Devil hybrid yelled and vented, she finally noted Ichigo’s gaze firmly on her and took a quick step back, adding a respectful, “...sir.”
About to say something, Ichigo was unceremoniously cut off as Gaurum glowered from behind him.
“Now see here young lady,” he said angrily as he pointed affronted at Akeno. “My city guard were quite busy with keeping -”
But Ichigo raised a single hand and shushed him. He then turned his attention back to Akeno who flinched under his gaze. Whatever defiance she had felt in the moment had quickly retreated behind a healthy dose of fear and survival instincts, but still… Ichigo’s mind flashed back to his brief conversation with Baraqiel.
The girl really was drowning on the inside, consumed with bitter resentment and anger.
But that issue was for another time.
“While it’s true, there were a few magical anomalies here and there,” which was a complete lie, Infernity had been rocked by his injured state, “that doesn’t change the fact that under your watch the house has been utterly wrecked. All that training I’ve put you through and this is what you have to show for it?”
Sona and Rias deflated at his words and, while he understood that he was being unfair with them, their ten years under him weren’t meant to be enjoyable, after all.
“So then,” he said, “what are we going to do about this mess? I know for a fact that you won’t be able to pay for any of this, so how is this going to get fixed?”
They all looked at each other nervously and, after a few tense seconds, Tsubaki spoke up in a quiet voice. “W-we were hoping maybe… youcouldjustfixit?”
She said the last part so quickly and in such a high-pitched voice Ichigo had to take a second to mentally unwind her words. After a moment, Ichigo nodded to himself. “Yeah, I suppose I could.” He then looked down at the goblin. “How much do you think it would take to get all this repaired, labor and materials?”
Before Gobdad could answer, Gaurum, having caught on rather quickly, coughed into his hand and said, “Let’s not forget zoning fees, building permits, inspection fees and – ahem – expediting fees, my Prince.”
Ichigo had to keep himself from snorting, expediting fees his infernal ass. That was just politician talk for bribes under the table towards specific parties in the construction business and key members of the mayor’s office.
However, Ichigo merely nodded along and said, “True, can’t ever forget the endless city bureaucracy. So, how much do you think, Gobdad?”
“Uhh…” The goblin blinked uncertain before he began calculating on his fingers, meanwhile Rias despairingly muttered to herself, “Not again!”
A few seconds later, Gobdad held up all ten of his fingers and Ichigo let out a low whistle.
“Wow,” Ichigo said, obviously faking his surprise, “that’s a lot of money. Looks like I’m gonna have to raise rent to make up for the costs.”
“What?” Sona said breathlessly, going a deathly shade of pale.
“Thirty-thousand bloodstones a month,” he said plainly.
“What!” Rias shrieked.
“But sir!” Tsubaki objected. “We can barely afford rent now!”
Ichigo raised a lone, challenging eyebrow. “Are you arguing with me?”
They immediately went quiet and their shoulders fell dejectedly as they chorused, “No, my Lord.”
“Anyways,” Ichigo said, pushing past his own amusement and struggling to keep a straight face, “the reason I’m here is because I have a new job for both of you two,” and he pointed towards Rias and Sona.
“Us?” Sona asked.
“What kind of job?” Rias said as a follow up.
“The Youth Rating Game tournament in in two weeks, and I want you and your peerages to grind your asses off until then, I’ll have Meril drop by with some new training regimens- ” he ignored their collective groans – “But after the tournament, I want the both of you to spend time in Grevex’s mayoral office.”
“My Prince?” Gaurum said with confusion.
And Ichigo turned towards him and said, “Yeah, I want these two to intern at the city offices for a few months’ time. I want them to see how local governments are run; everything from departmental structuring, city planning, taxing, immigration – the works.” And he turned towards both girls with his arms crossed and expression set seriously. “You’re going to get a firsthand introduction of how to run a government. Grevex is miniscule compared to the Sitri and Gremory territories, but everything you can learn here can be called up when your respective fathers do decide to hand over the literal keys to their kingdoms.”
They both looked at him in surprise for a moment before quickly bowing at the waist and letting out loud ‘Thank you’ in unison, though Ichigo waved them off.
“Don’t thank me just yet,” he said wryly. “Working for the city means you’ll be working for me, even if indirectly.”
And Gaurum made a show of puffing out his chest. “Indeed! Indirectly for the sublime Prince, but directly for me! Fret not my dear ladies, I, Baronet Glint Gaurum will certainly guide you through mires of governance as rightful Lord Mayor of Grevex! But, ah, my Prince… your majestic self said interns… does that mean they won’t be paid?”
“I’ll have Meril send you the particulars after the tournament.”
“Of course, of course! As Your Highness commands!”
Ichigo then brushed nonexistent dirt off from his shoulder as he said, “Well, that’s all I really wanted to talk about. For now, focus on training as hard as you can. You don’t have time left and this tournament is shaping up to be one that will go down in history books.”
Chiefly because the Satans were using it as a trap for the Old Satan Faction, but no one really needed to know that. Actually, no one should know that; it was a top military secret.
“Anyways, I’m gonna head off now.” And as he turned around to leave, Sona suddenly called out to him.
“Wait, Lord Ichigo!”
He sent a glance over his shoulder. “Hm?”
She pushed her glasses up and coughed to the side somewhat awkwardly. “N-not to rush you, b-but when can we expect repairs to start?”
Ichigo blinked. Oh right, the house.
Briefly touching upon his oceans of demonic power, Ichigo willed the very truth of Infernity to shift, and there was a single, isolated moment where the localized reality flickered. And suddenly, the house was completely back to normal. Everything was fixed and repaired: the walls were perfectly fresh and smooth, the floorboards were set perfectly in place and polished, the roof was whole and full again… it was if the damage to the house never happened.
“There you go,” he said casually, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Everything is back to how it was. I even expanded the attic for you can turn it into an additional bedroom. That being said, there’s a slumbering Vetala up there, so good luck with that.”
But they didn’t seem to register his words and stared at him slack jawed. Rias raised a quivering hand and pointed at him, “But-but… you said all that stuff about labor! And materials! And fees!”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said in a purposefully obtuse manner.
“You raised the rent! By fifty percent!” Sona said outraged.
“Again, I remember,” he said dumbly. “It was like five minutes ago.”
“But-but…”
“Anyways, like I said, I’ll have Meril drop by with some more training soon!”
And as he turned and stepped through space, he heard Akeno’s cry of, “We’ve been scammed!”
=======
Ichigo leaned back in his chair; one leg stretched beneath the desk as he absently twirled a pen between his fingers. His phone rested against his ear while the dim glow of his monitor painted his bedroom in soft blue light. He opened his mouth to respond -
A blinding flash split the room.
A heartbeat later, thunder slammed into the glass hard enough to rattle the window frames. Ichigo frowned and turned his head, watching rain lash against the pane in thick, wind-driven sheets.
Tiamat had gone out for a quick flight, wanting some light exercise after having devoured literal pounds of chocolate cake and ice cream. And in her ferocious wake, the Chaos Karma had summoned a veritable hurricane over the sky-bluffs of Iravex.
He sighed softly and refocused on the call. “Sorry,” he murmured, “couldn’t hear you. What were you saying?”
On the other end, Yasaka’s voice returned, warm and steady. “I was asking if you’ve spoken to the Sapling of Yggdrasil yet.”
Ichigo shook his head out of habit, even though she couldn’t see it. “No, and I don’t plan to any time soon. My instincts are telling me to keep my focus on the Old Satan Faction and Khaos Brigade.” He hesitated, remembering Sköll and Hati’s attack on Japan, and the knowledge they had invaded with the intent of devouring Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi’s divinity. Another ploy of the Divine Dragons, apparently. “…Unless you want me to.”
“No,” Yasaka said gently but firmly. “You already have too much to handle. Please don’t push yourself further. Not right now.”
Ichigo gave a soft smile at her words. “How’s Kyoto?”
“For now? Quiet. But all my senses are telling me it is the cold breath before the deep plunge.” she replied. His smile dimmed at her words – Yasaka had her fair share of worries too, being also a ruler and sovereign of her own country. What he wouldn’t give for all of it to melt away so that he could quietly spend each day safe and worry-free with his friends and family. After a small pause, she added quietly, “Any chance you could visit this weekend?”
A faint ache settled in his chest. “I’m sorry, princess. I just don’t have the time to personally come. There’s just too much to do down here in the Underworld.”
“I understand,” she said, a kind note ringing in her voice. “Just take care of yourself.”
“I will. I promise,” he said solemnly.
There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Yasaka said, “I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow, same time?”
“Works for me.”
“Perfect,” and he could practically hear the joy on her lips. “Love you. Mwah.”
“Love you too.” Ichigo smiled faintly as the line clicked silent.
He sat still in the dark for several seconds, the echo of his wife’s voice reverberating in his ears, accented by the heavy patter of rain from outside.
Ichigo then let the phone slip from his hand and settle on the desk, and he leaned back in his chair with a long, tired exhale. The pen spun once between his fingers before he tossed it into the air and caught it again, his thoughts drifting further with the hum of the storm. Another, louder, sigh followed, and already he was feeling that temptation to grab Tiamat out of the sky and whisk her away to Kyoto.
He closed his eyes.
For a fleeting moment he let himself drift: the memory of Yasaka’s warmth beneath his hands, the soft give of her waist as he pulled her close, the faint jasmine scent that always clung to her skin. He remembered pressing his face into the curve of her neck, the quiet hum of delight she always made as he nibbled on that erogenous zone in her neck. He recalled Tiamat whimpers whenever he aggressively pushed her down, the sharp breaths she gave when he roughly pulled her hair, and the sensual growls as he kissed up her spine. The memories welled up strong, and his inner demon (figurative and literal) whispered darkly for him to go and embrace them, to have them all through the night.
A flash of lightning tore across the room, white and sudden, and Ichigo’s eyes snapped open.
“Yeah… not the time,” he muttered under his breath.
With brutal discipline, Ichigo pushed away those tempting thoughts of having savage delight with his girls. There were too many things for him to do, and he no longer had the luxury of being reactive. He had to strike first and fierce, and he needed more weapons in his arsenal if he was going to do that.
Ichigo straightened, set the pen down, and pushed himself out of his chair. His long strides carried him through his bedroom, and he gingerly sat down on the bed, and even as he did so, Ichigo lifted his hand and a heavy black tome dropped neatly into his palm, materializing out of nowhere. His eyes flickered to the titled, Acausal Whims, embossed in dull silver in the ancient Demon language. It was one of the two books Sirzechs had given him. Along with Tiamat’s guidance, they had been invaluable in expanding his knowledge of Time Magicks and Manipulations.
Shifting himself comfortable, Ichigo sat cross-legged, and opened to a marked page, his eyes scanning across old Mephistopheles’ neat and elegant handwriting.
“By inverting the arc of time,” he read aloud, voice low against the gale of the storm, “one can displace and mirror-reflect causality, creating a temporal branch of a past, present, or potential future within an isolated simulation of reality…”
As he kept reading, his eyes instantly absorbing the information and imprinting it deep within consciousness. This would be what he needed, a way to fully train his powers under the perfect strain he always needed to pull out his growth… but without endangering himself needlessly.
After a quiet reflective moment, Ichigo briskly shut the heavy tome and set it beside him on the bed. He then raised his hand touched the most primal part of his soul, where the font of his power lay.
Flames crawled into existence above his skin, black and red and all too familiar, until Zangetsu burned its way into being and hovered before him. The Zanpakuto’s presence pressed and twisted against reality, threatening to devour and cut existence itself, and he felt the thrum of anticipation from the ruthless sword.
Slowly, he rested his hands on his knees and fixed his gaze on the sword. He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing aside all other thoughts and focusing just on him, his own being, letting the rest of the world simply disappear in the peripheral horizon. And with an unshakable instant of self-assertion, Ichigo closed his eyes and stepped into himself.
Immediately, the sense of weightlessness filled him.
And as he opened his eyes again, he stood within his soul once more. Above him stretched an endless blue ocean where a sky should have been, its surface calm and luminous. Suspended within it, the massive golden ginkgo tree hung upside down, roots drinking from the sea as its branches spilled light. Gilded leaves drifted lazily through the water, then slipped free and fell toward him, each one carrying droplets that shimmered the same molten gold as the leaf itself.
They brushed his shoulders, his hands, dissolving into warmth.
With a comforting smile, Ichigo lowered his gaze and took in the rest of his soul, and most prominently, the city with its towers and skyscrapers built and shaped like the spiraling edifices that dotted the grandest settlements of Infernity. And within that city, where its streets should have been, raged rivers of black and crimson, filled with a deep abiding hatred for all things in opposition. His eyes then turned beyond the city, to the very edges of his soul where he could see Hell burn, devouring everything and nothing - always taking but never depleting.
The wind then whipped fiercely, and Zangetsu stood before him, arms loose at his sides, eyes sharp and knowing. “You sure you wanna try this?” he asked, tone casual but edged with keenness.
It was a rhetorical question, of course. They had both made up their minds, and they were unified in it too. This was the best way… and, he had to admit, he was feeling somewhat giddy with anticipation.
He reached forward, fingers spreading, and the scattered gold throughout the air around flared in answer. Empyrean light surged outward in ripples, and the ocean above flashed from blue to liquid gold, reflecting across everything at once.
“Yeah,” Ichigo said quietly.
Zangetsu’s mouth split into a feral grin.
=======
Cao Cao withdrew the True Longinus from an Asura’s throat in a smooth, practiced motion, letting the spear’s light gutter softly as the creature collapsed. Even fallen, the thing was monstrous: a towering figure with six corded arms splayed across the shattered ground and three snarling faces frozen in overlapping expressions of fury. Its skin carried a dull blue-grey cast like cold stone, and the faint glow of wrathful fire still smoldered behind its hollowing eyes as its body began to crumble into drifting motes of ash. With a final hiss of dissolving essence, the Hindu titan vanished entirely, leaving only a faint scar of broken earth where it had died.
Cao Cao rested the Spear of Destiny against his shoulder and rolled his neck as the battlefield settled into its final moments. The Asura had been accompanied by a band of Rakshasa, towering monstrous humanoids with long fangs and razor-sharp claws, but his companions were making quick work of them.
Indeed, there were only three left.
Jeanne moved swift, her steps light and precise as her golden hair swayed in wind behind her. He always enjoyed watching her fight, her footwork and swordplay were akin to a dance, made all the more brilliant by the ethereal lights of her Sacred Gear creating Holy Swords out of thin air.
Blades of radiant light formed at her command, each Holy Sword carrying a unique aura and power, allowing her to easily and readily overwhelm any enemy. Her Rakshasa lunged with a howl, claws tearing through the air, but Jeanne flowed around the strike rather than meeting it.
Her body turned with a graceful arc, one glowing blade slipping beneath the creature’s guard to slice cleanly across its torso, while another manifested mid-spin to pierce through its shoulder. She did not hack or batter, no Jeanne brought her opponents down with a thousand cuts, each motion like a paintbrush across a canvas.
Except her ink was blood and her canvas was a living being… actually, now that he thought about it, was it weird for him to find such a macabre display beautiful? Wasn’t it kind of… creepy?
Cao Cao frowned and shook his head. No wonder he was single. Ah well, he could settle down and date after humanity was safe and sound from the far too many dangers of the supernatural world.
He returned his attention to Jeanne as her final step landed, her sword swept in a quiet horizontal line, and the Rakshasa simply came apart, its form unraveling in a silent burst of holy light.
Not far from her, Hercules ended his own battle with far less refinement. The descendent of the most famous Hero in the western world seized his Rakshasa by two of its arms and simply tossed it around, slamming it into the ground. His near divine muscles swelled as he wrenched the creature forward and drove a crushing fist into its chest; bone cracked under the blow with a thunderous peal and the Rakshasa spat curses and tried to retaliate, but Hercules answered with another strike, then another, each blow landing like a battering ram. There was no finesse in his method, only relentless force.
Cao Cao almost felt bad for the creature… almost. But in the end, it was a monster. And monsters were meant to be slain by heroes.
The creature’s resistance collapsed under the barrage, and with one final roar Hercules slammed it into the earth hard enough to pulverize the creature into ashes, leaving it to dissolve beneath his shadow.
Siegfried, meanwhile, ended his opponent with brutal efficiency. The white-haired Germanic hero’s sword rose and fell in clean, merciless lines, each swing brutally cleaving and sundering flesh. The Rakshasa tried to retreat, but Siegfried pressed forward without hesitation, carving through limb after limb with mechanical precision. There was no ceremony in his strikes, no flourish: if Jeanne was elegance and economy, then Siegfried was lethal brutality. When the creature finally collapsed, he finished it with a downward thrust that split it from collar to spine, the body breaking apart before it even struck the ground.
Silence settled over the ruined field as the last of the Rakshasa dissolved, and Cao Cao watched his companions with calm satisfaction, the spear’s point lowering slightly as the skirmish came to its close.
“Well, that was disappointingly easy,” Jeanne said as she made a disgruntled face.
Hercules shrugged even as he cleaned out his ear with a pinky. “We’d be pretty sorry heroes if we were struggling with overland enemies.”
She gave a wry look. “Not everything is translatable to an RPG, Herc.”
The gargantuan man gave another shrug. “I disagree, everything about being a hero comes down to classic 80’s and 90’s JRPGs. Zelda, Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy: they’re the blueprints of the modern method of heroing! What else is there? Those shitty isekai manga that are just mass printed these days?”
Jeanne stared at him flatly for a full second before rolling her eyes. “You are such a nerd.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd,” Cao Cao interjected cheerfully.
“No, but walking into people’s houses uninvited and smashing their pots on the ground is pretty rude,” said Seigfried as he flicked his sword of the gore.
Hercules froze for a second but then nodded. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”
Cao Cao gave them a puzzled look, and when Siegfried caught it, he asked him, “What?”
Cao Cao’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Does it really need to be said that breaking into houses and breaking people’s things is rude?” He asked with a touch of confusion. That was not heroic behavior!
“It’s a Zelda thing,” Siegfried said almost reflexively, and then narrowed his eyes and asked in return, “You never played Zelda?”
Cao Cao shook his head and said, “I lived in a rural village in the mountains, video games weren’t really a thing for me growing up. Besides, the older generation in my village were really anti-Japanese because of World War 2; there’s no way I’d ever have been allowed to even hold a Nintendo product, much less enjoy one.”
They all stared at him blankly, and then finally Jeanne let out a deep sigh. “Oh, Cao Cao. That explains so much about you.”
He stared mildly affronted, what was that supposed to mean?
But then, Cao Cao felt a flicker of energy from his Sacred Gear, and immediately afterwards he sensed a subtle tremor in the fabric of reality, as though something pressed itself into the world. His posture straightened instantly, and he slowly looked over his shoulder, just as the space above the ruined field littered with the ashes of monsters rippled like a leaf falling on a pool of still water.
Moonlight gathered there, pale and sterile, until it condensed into the figure of Tsukiyomi.
The Shinto Moon’s projection hovered above the battlefield, immaculate and untouched by the churned mud, blood, and ash below. His gaze swept across the carnage, and his expression slowly morphed into one of contempt and disgust.
“Only crude barbarians jest ‘midst a field of fallen enemies,” the Moon sneered.
Cao Cao smiled pleasantly and lifted the True Longinus, the radiant spear angling upward until its tip pointed directly at the sudden intruder’s throat.
“Personally,” he replied calmly, “I think it’s the privilege of humans to relish the destruction of that which seeks to undo them. After all, everyone seems so intent on trying to control or destroy us.”
For a fleeting instant, Tsukiyomi’s eyes flickered to the weapon. The projection did not move, but Cao Cao saw the hesitation all the same, the faint slipping of his otherwise stainless composure.
It never failed to amuse him… and vex him.
This thing that dared to take for itself the title of god, it was no different than all the others posturing in their immortal place - as though they existed beyond fear, doubt and consequence. Yet place before them a power that could harm them, that could actually test the limits of their so-called eternity, and suddenly they were no different than the rest of mortal life on Earth. It was laughable, really. Something that could bleed, something that could die, something that could be touched and harmed, had no right to call itself a god.
They were powerful, that was it. Nothing more, and maybe something less.
To Cao Cao, the beings of the Fourth Dimension were undeserving of worship and adoration. Humanity was better off on its own, better off to make its own decisions and make its own choices. Free of these things that sat comfortable on their thrones, that were so removed and ignorant from the struggles and strife of the one true miracle that was life – that was his ultimate dream. To dream of humanity free of everything but their own will.
The only good that the so-called divines brought upon Earth was their decision to remove themselves from the world and create the Heavenly Suppression. Humanity did not need distant, hypocritical narcissists demanding reverence from above.
But then, Tsukiyomi’s gaze lifted from the spear and returned to Cao Cao, his tone cooling further.
“The Satans will soon press their offensive,” he said. “I have foreseen it. There is a strong possibility they will strike the bridges of the lands of the dead.”
Cao Cao considered that with a thoughtful tilt of his head, the Longinus still held casually aloft. “Possibility?” He mused. “So much for the infallible sight of the divine.”
Tsukiyomi sneered. “The Satans’ powers grow by the day, casting shadows over Time itself. Fate has become occluded: know that your precious humanity will also fall under their dark sway if they continue to grow… even more so than already. But you will have your chance,” Tsukiyomi continued. “The youngest of them will expose himself. When he does, you may strike him down and defeat a great foe of humanity.”
Cao Cao let out a snort of laughter.
“I’ve no interest in cleaning up your failures, Exiled Moon of the East,” he said lightly. “But I will admit… the Hero slaying the Demon King is one of the modern world’s favorite myths. I wouldn’t mind having my own personal version of it.”
The Shinto Moon’s expression twisted faintly, something colder than anger passing through it as his projection began to dissolve into drifting light.
“There are myths far older and far, far more powerful surrounding that abomination,” Tsukiyomi warned. “Underestimate them at your own peril, for this new breed of Demons are more dangerous than you can imagine.”
Then the light collapsed, and the sky returned to its natural color, leaving only silence and the faint echo of his frigid disdain behind.
“Are we really going after Satan?” Jeanne asked faintly from behind.
Cao Cao shrugged, he wasn’t lying when he said that he wanted to manifest the narrative of the Hero killing the Demon Lord. It was a childhood favorite of his, and a classic story the world over: the farm boy who comes into mystical power and uses it to vanquish the dreaded evil plaguing the world.
Not to mention, he was very curious to meet the legendary Ichigo Kurosaki. The man who once saved the world and then threw away his humanity and became the great Adversary, Satan himself. What could have prompted such a stalwart hero to become the greatest villain?
“If we are,” Siegfried said, “I call dibs on that sword of his. They say it’s now the strongest Demon Sword in existence, even greater than my Gram.”
Cao Cao let out a laugh. “You and your obsessions with swords, you have such a one-track mind, Siegfried.”
“Hah!” Hercules barked. “One-track mind? Look who’s talking!”
Cao Cao only shook his head in laughter as he used the True Longinus to cut a dimensional portal. “You guys in the mood for pizza?”
=======
Ichigo’s shoes crunched against broken concrete the instant he stepped into existence.
Like second nature, his senses flared outward, stretching across the ruined battlefield, and far, far beyond – out into the endless expanse of the world. He could feel the immeasurable amount of spiritual power saturating all things in every direction. And through it all, he could feel the silent presence and stare of the Ruling Dead, watchful and curious. How long had it been since he last stepped into the mortal afterlife?
But then, already he could feel the inherent rejection, the way the Dead Realm tried to push him out, even as his unfathomable depths of demonic power crept out like dark tendrils, corroding and corrupting every spirit particle. Every fundamental iota of reality made out of Reishi would be consumed under his own power until nothing was left but a gaping wound that was pressed to the very outer dimensional limits of Hell itself.
And for this reason, were Demons forbidden in the afterlife – without the barriers of the physical world, souls and things of spirt were defenseless against the tide of their dark power. Unless, of course, said soul was strong enough to resist the Demon’s presence.
But this world? This dead world without its King to protect it? He imagined it would take mere hours for his sheer presence to upend its reality.
But that didn’t matter, not now. Not seven years later.
Slowly, Ichigo turned his head, and to his right, laying on the concrete rubble was his father in full Shinigami regalia – unconscious and unharmed, just like he remembered. Further off to his left, kneeled Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiro, Don Kanonji… and that one Shinigami with an afro whose name still escaped him, all frozen in stunned disbelief.
Then his gaze found Rangiku, kneeling in the dust with Ichimaru in her arms. She wasn’t crying… not like how he remembered. She was staring at him, face drained of color, horrified and trembling.
And finally, Ichigo’s gaze fell upon the greatest enemy of his human life-
Aizen.
Eyes oddly purple with irises of pure white, his brown hair long and his robes white and fanning out like a pair of butterfly wings behind him. And at the center of his torso gleamed the Hōgyoku, pulsing a dangerous ephemeral glow.
“…You,” and there was something dangerous, something accusatory in Aizen’s voice, “are not Kurosaki Ichigo.”
“No,” he said, and Ichigo felt the heat of infernal power gather behind his eyes as they flashed crimson. When he spoke again, his voice warped inhumanly.
“I'm Satan.”
=======
A/N:
"By inverting the arc of time one can displace and mirror-reflect causality, creating a temporal-branch of a past, present or potential future in an isolated simulated reality. This allows one to experiment with alternate possibilities and explore arcane superpositions. Once the magic dissapates, the simulacrum fades into nothingness, preserving the sanctity of the timeline." - Acasual Whim, Mephistopheles
Translation: Ichigo recreated a moment of the past so that he could relive it. It's not time travel per se, more like copy and pasting a moment of time onto a blank file that just endlessly repeats until deleted: like a gif!
One thing I do want to talk about is Ichigo's inner world, his soul.
The sea is Tiamat and his bond with her. She's everywhere and is a calm and clear presence within his mind. The giant ginkgo with golden leaves within the sea is Yasaka. A strong, central pillar whose golden leaves lightly touch all the aspects of his life. Together, they represent Ichigo's soul having passed onto a clear and sunny day. And the reason they're upside down in the sky is because that's what his soul is reaching for. It symbolizes his constant yearning for his two absolute loves.
The city is no longer Karakura Town, instead, all the buildings are replaced with those of Infernity: this symbolizes Ichigo having accepted fully inhuman status as a Demon and Satan. The black and red river 'raging' in the streets is the Sin of Wrath. It also serves as a metaphor for anger/protests in the street, a natural predisposition towards Ichigo's rebellious and irreverent attitude. You'll also note that, over the course of the story, all the buildings are no longer sideways, instead they stand upright. This is because Ichigo is no longer unsure of who and what he is. He's an adult and is comfotable with his own identity and place in life. He's moved past uncertainty.
Hope you enjoyed!