King Chapter 2: Divine Pulse
The sky cracked.
No thunder. No sound. Just a golden fracture—like a vein of holy light—spreading momentarily across the heavens. It lasted less than a second. And then it vanished, leaving the world as still as before.
But for Kairo Tsukihara, it changed everything.
He lay on the concrete, chest rising and falling rapidly, his school uniform soaked in cold sweat. His hands trembled as he pushed himself up, every movement sluggish and uncoordinated, like gravity had intensified just for him. The world spun. His head pounded.
"What... the hell was that?"
The street was empty. Cars stood parked. No wind blew. And yet his ears rang with silence that didn't belong to this world. Something ancient and immense had brushed against his soul.
He forced his legs to move. With wobbling steps, he made it back to the sidewalk, grabbing the pole of a streetlamp for balance. His eyes lifted to the sky—normal again, but the afterimage of that fracture burned behind his eyelids.
> You are me now…
A whisper, not from the outside—but within. The same voice from before. Heavy with authority. Absolute. It didn't speak in words, but its meaning carved itself into Kairo's mind like scripture etched in bone.
---
It took him over an hour to walk home. Every step felt like dragging chains. He didn't remember crossing the usual busy streets, didn't remember the faces of the people he passed. Or maybe there were none. Maybe the world had pulled away from him.
When he finally entered his apartment, he dropped his backpack with a dull thud and slumped against the door, locking it behind him. The silence inside felt wrong. Stretched. As if the air itself was waiting.
He stumbled to the bathroom, flicked on the light, and stared into the mirror.
His reflection stared back. Same black hair, pale skin, and tired gray eyes. But beneath the surface—there was something else. For just a moment, the gold returned. Not in his eyes, but flickering behind them.
A throne. A sky filled with swords. A being suspended in crystal.
He splashed cold water onto his face. "I'm going crazy..."
But he didn't feel crazy. He felt... awakened.
---
Hours passed. Night settled over Karakura Town.
Kairo sat on the edge of his bed, the room bathed in dim light from his desk lamp. The shadows stretched unnaturally across the floor. He hadn't touched his dinner. He barely noticed time passing.
Then it hit him again.
Pulse.
Not physical. Not even spiritual. It was deeper than that. Like the core of his soul had just… expanded. His vision blurred. His heartbeat slowed. He could feel every inch of his body vibrating with dormant energy.
And then—visions.
Not dreams. Not imagination. Memories.
A throne of floating stone. The Soul King suspended, mutilated, his limbs scattered across realities. The first Shinigami carving laws into the sky with blades of pure reiatsu.
He saw a Quincy—Yhwach—born from the silence, screaming in the void.
Kairo clutched his chest. The pressure built faster, heavier, louder. It was too much. His body felt like a container for something far too massive.
> Reclaim. Rejoin. Reign.
He dropped to his knees.
"Stop... please... what is this...?"
Then came the sound that shattered everything.
Creeeeak.
His closet door opened.
He hadn't moved it.
A cold breath slid down his neck.
He turned his head—slowly, like a machine—and saw two white eyes peering from the dark. No pupils. No sclera. Just glowing ovals in a sea of shadow.
From the closet stepped a figure.
It was cloaked in ragged black robes that moved like ink in water. Its face was concealed beneath a smooth white mask—vertical black line down the center. No mouth. No features.
No spiritual pressure. No sound. No scent.
Just a presence so overwhelming it made Kairo feel smaller than dust.
"Who... who are you?" he whispered.
The being stepped into the light.
> "I am the breath between kings. The silence that came after the first scream."
Kairo's eyes widened. The voice came from nowhere. It was like a thousand whispers layered into one.
> "You carry what was broken. You are the host. The flesh reborn."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
> "The Soul King's body was scattered—his heart, power, eyes, voice—cut apart to bind the realms. But nothing is lost. Only waiting."
The figure pointed a skeletal finger at Kairo's chest.
> "You are the vessel. The soul repaired. The return."
Kairo's body convulsed. A golden light exploded from his chest, flooding the room. The desk split. His bookshelf collapsed. Glass shattered.
The being stepped forward, completely unfazed.
> "He stirs within you. Do you remember the void between worlds? Do you feel the chains around your fate loosening?"
"No—NO! Stay back!"
But it was too late.
The pressure surged. Kairo screamed as memories not his own flooded in:
The day the Soul King was sealed
The mutilation—eyes carved, limbs stolen
The rebellion of the first nobles
The creation of the Soul Society
Ichibei painting the laws of names across existence
His bed cracked in half. The floor beneath him groaned as the reiatsu warped the very air.
And then—
SNAP.
A flash of green light erupted from the center of the room. The masked figure recoiled, then vanished in a blink—dissolved into ink-like mist.
Silence returned.
The pressure dropped.
Kairo collapsed, coughing, covered in sweat. His entire body trembled. The light faded slowly.
"W-What... was that...?"
Footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. Calm. Measured.
Then a voice—cool, smooth, playful:
> "Well, that got intense rather quickly."
Kairo looked up as a man in a green-striped bucket hat and wooden sandals stepped into his ruined room.
Kisuke Urahara.
He smiled politely, eyes calm but sharp.
> "Hello, Kairo Tsukihara. I'm sorry for the mess—but you just lit up every spiritual monitor from here to Soul Society. Thought I'd stop by."
Kairo stared. "Who... are you?"
Urahara's eyes glinted. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small device flickering with unstable readings.
> "Let's just say I'm someone who's cleaned up a mess like this before. But you, kid... you're something else entirely."
Kairo tried to stand, but his knees buckled. Urahara caught him.
> "The Soul King's fragments? Inside a teenage boy? That's bold—even by cosmic standards."
Kairo blinked. "So I'm not crazy?"
Urahara chuckled. "Oh, you're definitely crazy. Just not the wrong kind."
He stood up and turned toward the shattered window. "We don't have much time. That being that appeared—he wasn't the only one who felt you awaken."
Kairo's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Urahara's tone grew serious.
> "Kairo… the moment your soul flared, beings all across the realms felt it. Old ones. Silent watchers. Even those long buried."
He looked over his shoulder.
> "Some will want to worship you. Some will want to kill you. And a few… a very dangerous few… will want to consume you."
Kairo swallowed hard.
> "But the scariest part? Even you don't know what you're fully capable of yet."
Outside, clouds swirled above Karakura. Thunder rumbled. Far away, in the silent halls of the Soul Society, alarms lit up like stars.
In Hueco Mundo, hollows shrieked as the sand trembled.
And deep beneath it all, in a forgotten prison made of reishi crystal—something opened one glowing eye.
---
TO BE CONTINUED