"All units—retreat immediately!"
Himeko's voice cut through the chaos like a whip crack, her tone tight with urgency as she held the Honkai Emperor at bay, sweat and blood running down the side of her face.
But her order fell on deaf ears. Her squad refused to budge.
"No, Captain! You're the only hope of the 5th Squad! All of us can die—but not you!"
"You—!"
Her voice caught, torn between fury and helplessness. They were disobeying her—but not out of mutiny… out of loyalty. And that hurt more than any wound.
In the Fire Moth's Anti-Honkai Task Force, soldiers like Himeko—those who could withstand and even harness Honkai energy—were rare.
They were elite, valued as irreplaceable weapons.
But the others?
The majority were ordinary humans with only Honkai resistance—brave, yes, but fragile and mortal. Nothing but replaceable cannon fodder in the eyes of the higher-ups.
"To hell with protocol…"
Himeko clenched her fists, her breath ragged. To Fire Moth, she might be a prized asset. But to the 5th Squad—these girls who bled beside her, cried with her, laughed with her—
They were everything.
They were family.
And she was their Captain.
So if sacrifice was demanded, she would be the one to pay the price.
"DAMN IT!"
She howled as she intercepted another flying blade. The impact sent her skidding backwards, her boots carving deep trenches in the roof. Her shoulder throbbed, likely dislocated.
Up above, the Honkai Emperor hovered like a god, commanding waves of flying blades and Honkai Beasts like a conductor orchestrating death.
Himeko spat out blood, her gaze defiant as she struggled to rise.
"You want me?" she growled under her breath. "Fine. But I'm dragging you to hell with me."
She shouted once more to her sisters-in-arms, her voice sterner now, desperate yet trembling with suppressed emotion.
"I repeat—retreat... or every single one of you will be court-martialed for insubordination!"
A moment of silence.
Then—
CRACK—!!
A sudden spear of pale blue lightning tore through the battlefield, striking the Honkai Emperor in the side. Smoke billowed out—but there was barely a scratch.
Still… It was enough to break its rhythm.
The Honkai formation faltered for a breath.
Then—a shimmering portal tore open behind Himeko. Her eyes widened, stunned. But before she could react, a hand grabbed her jaw.
"Wh—?!"
She tried to shout, but someone—some stranger—shoved something like a pill down her throat without warning.
Her body seized up in reflexive panic, almost choking—
"It's you—cough! cough!" Her eyes widened in fear, then confusion.
But before she could demand answers, heat bloomed in her chest—then radiated outward like wildfire. Her injuries began to close, wounds sealing at a pace visible to the naked eye. The pain dulled, then vanished.
It was miraculous.
She blinked, disoriented—and finally got a look at her supposed savior.
He was that same youth she saw before.
Young. Maybe too young. But up close… striking. Almost handsome.
Wait! No! Focus, Himeko. Focus…
But his eyes—
Cold, focused, and tinged with killing intent. Not the eyes of a boy.
The eyes of a warrior.
He turned from her, blade in hand, and met the Honkai Emperor's gaze.
Adam didn't waste words. No greetings. No explanations.
His jaw clenched for a moment before narrowing his eyes.
Blue Reiatsu surged from beneath his feet, bursting outward as he launched himself into the air—his Asauchi igniting with spiritual fire, dancing like a blade of flame.
With a sharp cry, he brought his blade down in a swift arc of blue light—
But—
CLANG!
A flying blade intercepted the strike, shattering the force along with itself. More followed, lashing toward him swiftly, but Adam performed a second jump mid-air at the last moment.
"Tsk! Clever bastard."
Adam clicked his tongue, twisting mid-air with the grace of someone who had been fighting for his life far too long. His body, honed and enhanced beyond human limits, moved with practiced instinct—he planted a foot on one of the floating blades just as another volley sliced through the air.
Whsssh!
A blade grazed his arm. A line of crimson opened on his bicep, hot blood blooming against the cold wind. But Adam didn't flinch.
His eyes were locked forward—on the creature that ruled the skies.
The Honkai Emperor.
High above, the monster hovered with malicious grace, its very presence warping the space around it. It launched blade after blade, a storm of steel meant to butcher anything daring to rise above the ground.
But Adam was rising.
He ascended with glowing platforms forming beneath each step—Reishi footholds hastily constructed with his strained Reiryoku. The technique was clumsy, inefficient, and greedily devoured his energy.
A quick glance at his system panel confirmed it:
Reiryoku: 167/610
Reiryoku: 155/615
Reiryoku: 143/620
His reserves were hemorrhaging by the second.
But he had no choice.
The Honkai Emperor was airborne—untouchable from the ground. If Adam didn't meet it in the sky, no one else would.
His blade—a nameless Asauchi—burned with blue fire. That flame now condensed, sharpened to a luminous edge, the heat of it humming against his skin. The very air around the sword wavered from pressure and heat.
It was a reckless move. One mistake and the blade would destabilize—or worse, his body would give out from the mental strain.
Still, he pressed on.
"Just one strike," he told himself.
"I only need one clean strike."
The air trembled as another volley of blades tore toward him, each one gleaming with death.
Wh-CRACK!
Gunfire barked from below.
The projectiles whistled past him, clipping several blades mid-flight. They deflected, spiraling off-course harmlessly.
Adam's eye flicked toward the source. Fire Moth soldiers. They were providing cover fire—risking their own lives to give him a chance.
Even as strangers… even without knowing who or what he was…
They were helping.
That flicker of support burned hot in his chest. No words. No gratitude. Just the resolve to not waste it.
With his focus sharpened into a single, blade-thin thread, Adam surged forward.
The Honkai Emperor snarled—its mask splitting in a shriek—and it summoned its remaining arsenal.
Blades circled it like a deadly halo.
Then it made its move.
A cross-slash.
Twin blades tore toward Adam like guillotines of wind and steel.
He met them head-on.
The moment of contact was like slamming into a solid wall. His body jolted from the impact. Muscles strained, bones groaned, and for a second—just a second—it felt like time froze.
Then, his Reiatsu surged.
Like a dam breaking. Like thunder rolling down his spine.
With the might of nearly three times peak human strength, empowered by the burning tide of his soul, Adam drove his blade forward.
Sparks exploded.
Metal screamed.
The Honkai Emperor's twin blades shattered, cut clean through as if cleaved by divine will.
And Adam—
—kept going.
Straight toward the beast.
With the burning light of his soul illuminating his blade, Adam's grip tightened until his knuckles turned white. The blade trembled in his hands—not from weakness, but as if resonating with the unyielding will that surged within him. Its edge glowed brilliantly, responding like a loyal beast to its master's cry for defiance.
Then he struck.
The Honkai Emperor shrieked—a sound that tore through the sky like a banshee's death wail. Its obsidian carapace, untouched by all prior assaults, including Himeko's full-powered strike, now cracked. No—split. The blade sank deeper, carving its way through its flesh like divine judgment made steel.
The slash carved a burning path, inch by inch, closer to the creature's core. But just as he felt victory within reach—just when the monstrous heart was nearly exposed—
Clang.
The blade stopped.
Adam's muscles screamed. Every tendon strained as he poured every last ounce of strength into his attack. But the sword wouldn't budge another inch.
Reiryoku 0/610
The world tilted.
His limbs turned leaden. A gut-wrenching sense of emptiness rushed into him like a vacuum, robbing him of power, of warmth, of everything. His knees threatened to buckle—but he refused.
With a growl, he clung tighter to the blade.
"Cut…! Damnit! Don't you dare stop here!"
His voice cracked under the weight of desperation. Blood trickled from his lips as he ground his teeth hard enough to shred his gums. His arms trembled, not with fear, but with raw determination… and futility.
But this wasn't a fairy tale.
Stab.
"—Kuh?!"
The pain wasn't instant. It came a second later, after the shock.
Adam's mouth opened and blood burst forth violently, painting his trembling hands crimson. His eyes dropped down.
A white blade with a glowing pink core, wet with blood and torn flesh, protruded from his abdomen.
For a heartbeat, time stood still.
He blinked.
He watched the wound, felt the searing pain explode as sensation returned. Yet strangely, he did not scream. He did not panic.
Instead, a calmness—the kind that descends before death—washed over him.
"…Heh… I look rather pathetic…" he murmured, spitting more blood. "Trying to play hero… save some damsels…"
He staggered, legs wobbling beneath him. His sword slipped slightly from his grasp. "Yet…"
"Indeed. You look rather pathetic, Adam."
The voice was cold. Familiar. Distant.
"At your level now, you barely even qualify… No. You didn't even reach the bare minimum to be enrolled as a student in Shin'ō Academy."
The moment the words hit, Adam's hazy thoughts cleared like fog swept by a harsh wind.
His vision distorted, the battlefield fading. Pain, blood, fire—all erased.
Suddenly, he stood in a vast emptiness.
A void.
Above, the cosmos stretched endlessly, stars twinkling in their distant beauty. Below, still waters reflected his disheveled figure. The silence pressed in, loud in its serenity.
Before him stood a man he had only seen in fiction.
White captain's haori. Immaculate brown hair. Calm hazel eyes behind black square glasses. A voice that was both gentle and terrifying.
"Aizen… Sōsuke?"
Adam's voice cracked—not in fear, but disbelief. His lips parted in awe and confusion. The man before him wasn't the tyrant he remembered from Bleach's final arc. No, this was pre-betrayal Aizen—yet his presence was even more suffocating than the god-slaying monster he would later become.
Aizen didn't acknowledge the question.
Instead, he looked at Adam like a teacher at a failing pupil.
"Too weak," he said simply, with a sigh that held a world of disappointment.
"You are squandering your potential. Chasing fleeting relationships, petty sentiments… distractions."
Adam felt the sting in every word.
"You placed your trust in that System of yours instead of the potential you inherited from me," Aizen continued. "It was nothing but a crutch... an illusion of strength. You've built your strength on a false foundation and borrowed power."
Adam opened his mouth to protest, but no words came.
"And when the time comes—when it truly matters—your strength will fail you just like today. Tell me, Adam… did you feel that moment? That helplessness?"
His throat tightened. His fists clenched.
"I…" he whispered.
Aizen didn't wait.
"But failure is necessary. Everyone will make mistakes. Even I stumbled before in my path to godhood. So, just this once… I offer you a lifeline."
The stillness broke.
From nothing, a familiar weapon formed—a zanpakutō with a green hilt, glinting under starlight. Aizen drew it without ceremony and slashed the air.
The Honkai Emperor manifested out of the void before them, shrieking. But before it could even move—
Slash.
A single, clean stroke.
The creature split in half like paper.
Its scream was cut short.
The void cracked. The stars shattered.
In this shattered world, Adam heard his final advice.
"Remember, only the strengths you gain with your own hands are real."
And then, everything collapsed into blinding light.
—————
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