100 Power Stones! Lets fucking go guys!
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Thud!
The ancient sword sheath tapped the wooden floor, its dull, resonant echo lingering in the air.
The dojo's grand doors slid shut under the steady hands of Chōjirō Sasakibe and Genshirō Okikiba, sealing the space with quiet finality.
Captains clad in pristine white haori knelt in orderly rows along either side.
This time, however, they were flanked by sharp-eyed figures standing rigidly, gazes fixed forward.
Only Makoto, unversed in protocol, initially joined them, settling cross-legged beside Unohana.
By the time he noticed he was the sole figure seated among the upright, it was too late to rise.
Curious glances flickered his way now and then.
Yet no one voiced a reprimand.
Unbeknownst to Makoto, his reputation preceded him in circles he'd never glimpsed. Handpicked by Yachiru Unohana and personally mentored by Captain-Commander Yamamoto, he was the monster who'd stormed three districts on the battlefield, single-handedly thwarting the Heads of the Shiba and Shihōin. Whispers painted him as a monster who drinks and eats human blood and soul in outlandish rumors.
Only those recently stationed at the Genji School knew the less glamorous truth, a petty grudge-holder, a Kidō dunce, and a chaotic brawler with a penchant for random violence.
Not that anyone believed those tales.
Now, as the instructors watched him take a seat by Unohana's side, they chalked it up to special favor from the captains.
Still…
He didn't look all that impressive.
His face was swollen from a beating.
Many instructors harbored the same silent thought.
But their attention soon shifted, ensnared by Yamamoto's voice.
"This captains' council has been convened primarily to summon the Head of the Shihōin who will clarify certain matters and share intelligence regarding the Seireitei."
"Should any of you have questions, you may pose them when the floor opens."
Yamamoto's tone was measured, brooking no debate.
As his words settled, Sasakibe escorted a dark-skinned figure from the dojo's inner chamber.
Chika Shihōin appeared much as he had at their first encounter.
His wounds, however, had clearly been tended to.
Only his wrists bore the weight of rune-etched Sekkiseki stones, infused with Kidō to suppress his reiatsu.
Though Yamamoto spoke with courtesy, he made no effort to disguise Chika's status as a captive.
Yet Chika carried himself with ease, a confident smile gracing his lips, unmarred by his predicament. He settled boldly at the center of the gathered captains, turning to Yamamoto at the head with a genial nod.
"Captain-Commander Genryūsai?"
The old man paused briefly before replying, "Let's begin with what you mentioned earlier, the Divine Armament of the Tsunayashiro."
"Divine Armament? Not quite." Chika tilted his head thoughtfully. "More like a family legacy."
"As you all know, the Five Great Noble Families of the Seireitei boast ancient lineages. The heads of these main branches wield extraordinary power, their advanced reishi incompatible with the Soul Society's fabric. Over time, a tradition emerged, sealing their Zanpakutō within the family upon death, passing them down through generations."
"The Tsunayashiro's so-called divine armament is simply the most formidable among these inherited blades."
Here, Chika's voice dipped, his gaze sweeping the assembled captains.
"The most iconic of them is called Enrakyōten."
"Its ability is pure in its simplicity, it mimics any Zanpakutō known to its wielder."
Gasps rippled through the younger instructors.
Across the Soul Society, Zanpakutō with unique abilities were rare treasures.
Even within the Genji School, most blades offered mere shifts in form or elemental affinity.
The seasoned captains, however, remained unfazed.
"Mimicry, you say?"
Kinroku Izuhara sat upright, sipping his sake, "Then… the strength of the replicated power must depend on the user's own might, correct?"
"And since a Zanpakutō is a manifestation of the soul, wielding such an ability... doesn't it come at a cost?"
His reasoning cut sharp and clear.
If a limitless Zanpakutō truly existed, they'd all have been incinerated long ago by noble-backed assassins wielding copies of Ryūjin Jakka.
After all, Yamamoto's blade was no stranger to the world.
"Exactly."
Chika raised an eyebrow, his smile affirming, "For anyone but its original host, that blade comes with severe restrictions."
"The most critical being, each use carves away a portion of the user's soul."
"A weapon meant solely for desperate gambits."
A collective sigh of relief softened the room.
Of course.
No Zanpakutō was invincible.
Yamamoto kept his eyes lowered, waiting in silence.
"But..."
Chika's tone pivoted abruptly, "The Tsunayashiro long ago devised a countermeasure for that flaw."
"Are any of you familiar with Kyōgoku?"
The captains exchanged puzzled glances, unfamiliar with the term.
These were but rough-hewn warriors of the Rukongai, their knowledge dwarfed by the nobles' vast erudition.
Chika pressed on, undeterred, "Kyōgoku is a gathering place for souls detached within the Dangai, persisting as a pocket of reishi space."
"Countless souls missing their chance at 'ascension,' yet spared from hollowfication lose their memories and form konsō, incomplete spirits. These konsō cluster over time, giving rise to spaces known as Kyōgoku."
"Within the Dangai, these Kyōgoku bubbles are innumerable, scattered like foam across the Garganta linking the three worlds."
"The Tsunayashiro controls one such vast Kyōgoku."
"There, they've cultivated their dominion for untold millennia."
The captains furrowed their brows, still grasping for the thread of his meaning.
Kyōgoku and Zanpakutō... what was the connection?
Chika smiled faintly, "Though it's unclear how they achieved it, records confirm the Tsunayashiro devised a method to replenish themselves by absorbing specific souls."
"With this power, they've weathered at least three certain-death crises in their history, slaying foes vastly stronger than themselves."
A chill swept through the captains.
No wonder.
Over a million years, who could tally the heroes and legends birthed in the Soul Society?
Yet the five great noble families endured…
So they did have some tricks up their sleeves?
"Please, hold on."
Makoto raised a hand, interjecting, "If they possess such an ability, how do the Tsunayashiro lure their enemies into Kyōgoku? And why haven't they used it sooner?"
"The Seireitei must've gauged Yamamoto-sensei's strength ages ago, no?"
Chika's eyelid twitched at the sight of Makoto.
Still, his voice remained steady, "That brings us to another of the Tsunayashiro's divine armaments."
"Unlike the Zanpakutō passed down through eons, this is a singular marvel in the Soul Society."
"An infinite library that records every event within the Soul Society's bounds..."
"Daireishokairō."
"Ambush, conspiracy, manipulation, even poison."
"Endless knowledge begets endless possibilities, then, combining Kyōgoku and Enrakyōten to strike… that fusion is the Tsunayashiro's true trump card."
The captains straightened unconsciously, spines rigid.
Nobutsuna Shigyō sucked his teeth, muttering, "What is all this? How come it's all stuff we've never heard of?"
Kinroku's eyes gleamed with fascination.
Chika sighed helplessly, "Truthfully, as long as you hadn't breached the Seireitei, the Tsunayashiro wouldn't have unleashed it."
"But now, exceptional circumstances have arisen."
The room turned to him, puzzled.
He pointed to himself, then gestured outward with a wry smile, "The simultaneous fall of two great noble heads marks a catastrophic crisis. It's crippled the Noble Assembly and the Central 46, stripping them of legal legitimacy."
"By law, the Seireitei teeters on the brink of collapse."
"In such a state, even at the cost of precious 'origin,' the Tsunayashiro have no choice but to act."
Huh?
The Seireitei could crumble that easily?
The thought rippled through their minds.
Only Kinroku latched onto a key detail, frowning suddenly, "What's in those noble heads of yours?"
"Just 'falling' causes this much chaos?"
"And why is it the Tsunayashiro paying the price when you two are the ones captured? What about your own clans? What's this 'origin'?"
Chika's smile turned enigmatic, "Because the Soul Society itself falls under the Tsunayashiro's charge."
The room stilled, breaths held.
"The five great noble families oversee the Soul Society, the Living World, Hueco Mundo, the Dangai, and most crucially Hell."
The sharper minds among them caught it.
Their conversation with this man… it wasn't even on the same plane.
"As for the 'origin'…"
Chika trailed off, lips sealing shut, then parting again before sound emerged, "My apologies, you're not yet worthy to know."
"There exist beings in this world whose mere names, spoken aloud, wield power."
"Please forgive the limitation."
His smile was faint, almost fragile.
But those who'd witnessed his pause, his tentative reopening of his mouth, couldn't shake the unease.
Even this young, frail Head of the Shihōin bore captain-class reiatsu…
What had just happened?
Yet Makoto raised his hand once more, "Shihōin-sama."
He seemed puzzled, yet not entirely shocked, "You… don't actually see us as enemies, do you?"
"…"
The captains jolted as if roused from a dream.
Indeed.
Hadn't he spilled too many secrets in one breath?
These rough-edged warriors struggled to digest it all, still reeling from how a war between the Genji School and Seireitei had spiraled into matters of the three realms.
"Ah, is it that obvious?"
Chika scratched his head sheepishly, "Truth be told before the Central 46 and Noble Assembly passed the war decree, an order had already come down from above."
"Order?"
A shiver ran through their hearts.
Who could command the supreme five noble families?
The day's shocks were piling high.
"Yes."
Chika sighed, "The directive was [Assist in establishing a new order]."
"But the Tsunayashiro quashed it single-handedly."
"And that's not all."
"To sway the other families into approving the war, they bled resources dry."
He smiled calmly at the captains, "After all, the 'nobility' you aim to uproot is, in theory, the Tsunayashiro's most prized possession."
"Though it's really just their possession."
Chika exhaled wearily, "In short, my family's paid more than enough to earn our keep."
"Oh, right!" He paused mid-thought as if struck by inspiration.
"If I join you now, is it too late?"
"…"
A strange silence blanketed the dojo.
At that moment, they realized something critical.
The goal the Genji School had poured everything into achieving… to this man, it seemed…
Utterly insignificant.
***
Bonus Chapter:
100 Power Stones = 1 BC
300 Power Stones = 2 BC
500 Power Stones = 3 BC
700 Power Stones = 4 BC
1000 Power Stones = 5 BC
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