Chapter 250: The World I Look Forwat to (5)
Long, long ago, the world was not divided as sharply as it is today.
Back then, everything existed in a hazy boundary between life and death. There was no clear concept of dying, no pain, no illness, no disaster. All beings drifted through calm, blissful days, receiving the universe's peace as though it were a natural law.
Then, one day, a monster appeared.
A Hollow.
In that constant, unchanging world, the Hollow was an anomaly, a variable, a blasphemy that every instinct declared wrong. The chaotic cycle of matter had no place for it, so it devoured. It devoured everything it could reach, dragging all things into itself.
The cavity within that monster could never be filled. It could only keep eating, keep tasting, keep growing, until it became a complete Hollow that swallowed the entire world.
That was the fate that should have come to pass. The chaotic cycle would end, and the monster would roam the endless sea of imaginary numbers.
Yet the world, as the shell that birthed it, refused to be sacrificed.
So it produced the Soul King.
Yes. The Soul King was a pure concept, born from the world itself.
The world possessed self will. It possessed the instinct to survive, along with its own plans and ideas. The Soul King was the incarnation of that will.
But even as the child of the world's will, the Soul King clearly held ideas of his own.
After destroying the Hollow that devoured worlds, he did not restore the world to its original chaos. Instead, he established a clear concept, reincarnation.
He folded Hollows into that system and used its vast structure to suppress the reverse side of the world, true Hell.
In essence, Hollows, Shinigami, and humans were all alive.
The truly dead were the shadowy figures in Hell, beings stripped of even spiritual pressure, drifting unseen beside everyone.
Why the Soul King chose this path could only be explained, in hindsight, by love.
The Soul King was filled with immense love. He cherished the world and searched for solutions, even tolerating those narrow minded people who brutally carved up his body. He knew it would happen, and still allowed it.
Yet some could not accept such a world.
Calling himself the Soul King's son, Yhwach watched it all and seethed. He refused to let this ugly world continue. He wished to recreate the original chaos, because in that world everyone would rest safely in the embrace of a mother.
"Why do you think people in this world suffer, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Yhwach asked.
Ichigo's voice was quiet. "Because they can't protect what they want to protect…"
Yhwach's gaze did not soften.
"It is because they desire too much and can do too little," he said. "The root lies in imbalance, in allocation and sacrifice. Everyone has wishes. Everyone has beliefs. Yet some succeed while others fail. That is the world's unfairness, you were never standing on equal ground from the start."
Draped in a crimson cloak and clad in a pure white uniform, Yhwach walked through a shattered corridor. He strode through the courtyard of the Wandenreich, passing collapsed stone and splintered beams, until he stopped before an unremarkable door.
The room beyond had suffered heavily under Aizen Sōsuke's Heavenly Obstruction Quaking Star.
Often, the simplest attacks dealt the greatest damage. Even though the meteor itself had been smashed, fragments still rained down, crushing rooms and leaving ruin buried under ruin.
Yet Yhwach paid the wreckage no mind.
He stepped inside, moved debris aside, rummaged without hesitation, and finally pulled out a tattered little booklet. He held it out to Ichigo.
"Long ago, I believed as you do," Yhwach said. "I believed everything should remain within order. I founded the Quincy. I began exterminating Hollows. I sought to defeat the Shinigami and break the cycle."
His voice turned colder with each word.
"You understand what that cycle means, Kurosaki Ichigo. The Shinigami control everything from the shadows. We exist under their gaze. That is our world. They do not crush us only because they do not bother to look."
Ichigo lowered his eyes to the booklet.
It looked like a child's doodles, written in clumsy strokes, describing Hollows and Shinigami with a naivety that made even Ichigo feel uneasy. It urged more people to help the Quincy, as if words alone could build an army.
It was propaganda, ancient and handmade. Back then, the Quincy had not stood apart from humanity like the Shinigami did. They fought shoulder to shoulder with humans, driving away invisible terrors, freeing people from monsters that could not be seen.
In return, they asked for payment, or sometimes for other things.
It read like the hired gun relationships in stories, two sides bound tightly by necessity.
Yet the Shinigami described within were nothing like the Shinigami Ichigo knew.
According to this booklet, they did not simply slay Hollows. To maintain the so called balance of the Three Realms, they quietly disposed of Quincy. They culled Wandering Souls and humans for replenishment. They engineered massacres, deliberately birthing great numbers of Hollows to refill the cycle.
No matter how hard the Quincy fought, no matter how many Hollows they purged, the Shinigami always found ways to recreate them, stuffing them back into that nebulous system so humanity would remain trapped in chaos and death.
It was natural opposition.
Neither side could ever persuade the other.
The Quincy strove to wipe Hollows out so the world might know peace.
The Shinigami wrought slaughter and spawned Hollows to feed their precious balance.
Rage accumulated within the Quincy until they resolved on war, war against the monsters hiding in another world, war against those who secretly destroyed this one while smiling from the shadows.
It all sounded naive, almost comical.
The booklet made it painfully clear that, even with humanity's help, the ancient Quincy possessed no overwhelming power or grand system. They had only plain words, desperate stories, and the conviction that they were right.
It listed the horrors Hollows brought. It described the scenes of Shinigami creating them. It painted the agony the Quincy carried as if it were a sacred inheritance.
Ichigo read without refuting a single line.
Not because he agreed with every word.
But because he knew, deep down, it was probably all true.
When Quincy truly exterminated Hollows, what would the Shinigami do to keep balance?
Of course.
Massacre Wandering Souls. Slaughter humans. Forge new ghosts and Hollows. Refill the cycle.
It was necessary, because the world they built demanded it.
"How… could it be…" Ichigo's voice cracked.
Yhwach stood in the doorway, crimson eyes fixed on him.
"Do you still think the tranquil world I will create," Yhwach asked, "a world without death, without pain, is wrong?"
His voice was hoarse and low, yet it carried an oppressive weight.
"The Shinigami will trap everyone in this endless murderous loop. All will be swept along by the bloody tide, unable to escape. Humans will be livestock for slaughter, living forever in unseen terror, their numbers kept just right, herded like animals."
Ichigo swallowed. "I… I didn't know…"
"Hmph." Yhwach's expression did not change. "Then wait for the calm, painless world I, Yhwach, will bring you, Kurosaki Ichigo."
He stepped closer, his tone sharpening.
"Even if you cannot walk the same path, do not block those who seek peace and happiness. You have a family you want to protect, don't you?"
Ichigo fell silent.
"The world is never black and white," Yhwach said. "Perhaps because you met the Shinigami first, they treated you well, so you feel you should stand with them. But that was never the truth."
He lifted a hand slightly, as if weighing Ichigo's soul.
"You have the right to choose. Aizen Sōsuke merely unsealed a portion of your power and used you for it."
Then, unexpectedly, Yhwach's sternness softened into something that almost resembled kindness.
"But I am different," he said. "My son born of darkness. You are a Quincy. Quincy blood flows in your veins. Our souls are linked, our blood entwined. Nothing binds more surely than blood."
He extended his hand toward Ichigo.
"Do not disappoint me, Kurosaki Ichigo."
Ichigo stared at that outstretched hand.
His breathing steadied. His eyes sharpened.
He hesitated, then slowly shook his head.
"I still can't be sure, Uncle Yhwach," Ichigo said. "I don't know if what you say is right. I can only trust my own eyes…"
Yhwach's brows knit.
"…Hm. Very well."
He said nothing more.