Human World, Quincy Medical Camp
The camp was filled with the deafening cries of agony.
Blood soaked through the white Quincy uniforms, turning them a vivid red.
Busy medics hurried between tents, diagnosing and treating injuries at breakneck speed before rushing to the next patient.
Only pain, sorrow, and death lingered in this place.
The war between Shinigami and Quincy seemed like a clash of the strong, but it also involved the weak on both sides, consuming them.
Yet, in the reports of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads and the summaries of the Sternritter, these suffering, dying individuals were reduced to mere lines of black-and-white data.
Despite being flesh-and-blood people.
The law of the jungle permeated every corner of this world, where death was ever-present.
Some cried, some suffered, and some regretted.
Negative, intense emotions filled the camp, shared by Quincies who had returned from the Dangai to the Human World, only to face death.
Until...
"Thud."
Black boots stepped onto the muddy path.
One step after another.
The mournful cries in the camp suddenly stopped, as if choked or silenced.
The sorrowful air seemed to halt its spread.
Many injured soldiers, on the verge of losing consciousness, were drawn by an unseen force. They looked through the tent flaps, their eyes filled with hope.
They held their breath in unison.
In their line of sight appeared a figure clad in black amidst the white and red.
Long hair, beard, cloak, boots—all starkly contrasted with the surroundings.
No words were needed. Everyone knew who had arrived. The cries ceased, and all eyes turned toward the newcomer.
Yhwach remained calm and confident as ever.
Even after retreating from the Soul Society, he showed no signs of defeat, still exuding an air of control.
He was the ancient Quincy King, the sole emperor of the Wandenreich, a cold deity in this cruel world.
Omnipotent, powerful, unwavering, supreme.
Yet, the injured soldiers no longer looked at him with the same fervor and loyalty as before the battle.
Passion always returns to reason, but some need calm reflection, while others require a reality more brutal than cream in a pastry to awaken.
Clearly, most here fell into the latter category.
Thus, their gazes wavered and avoided his.
However, Yhwach seemed oblivious to their changed eyes. He walked steadily through the camp, listening to the voices that rose and fell around him.
Robert Accutrone and Pierre followed closely behind.
They ignored the gazes and cries, uninterested in the weak's fates.
But the man ahead seemed to think differently.
"Thud."
Yhwach's black boots stopped before an open tent, where a soldier lay on a crude straw mat, still moaning despite his presence.
Two men lay on the mat.
One lay flat, his right side soaked in blood.
Even from a distance, it was clear his right arm and leg were severed, his face half-destroyed, consciousness hovering between pain and delirium.
Only his instinctive moans remained, a soul's deep lament.
"Ugh, ugh..."
The other, an armless man, lay motionless beside him.
Yhwach stood before them, silently observing the severely injured soldier.
For others, it was hard to imagine what kept him crying out in such a state.
But Yhwach strangely empathized.
"Robert."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Yhwach looked at the dying soldier and asked calmly: "Do you know what people think deepest in their souls when pain reaches its peak?"
Robert seemed puzzled, turning to his emperor, deep in thought.
"I do not know, Your Majesty."
Yhwach smiled.
"It's... not wanting to die."
"Even if broken, even if desperate, they want to live."
Just like him at birth.
Without senses, without limbs, with a stopped heart.
But as long as the soul remained, the desire to live persisted.
It was an instinct, a will etched into the soul.
Having experienced it, he understood deeply.
Yhwach spoke, stepping toward the injured soldier.
Robert, still puzzled, asked:
"Your Majesty...?"
Before he could finish, Yhwach extended his hand toward the armless man.
In an instant, reishi surged like a waterfall from the armless man, converging into Yhwach's palm.
The reishi, barely lingering, was channeled through Yhwach into the severely injured soldier's body.
His destroyed right side regrew visibly, his brain and face rapidly repaired. His hollow eyes refocused, consciousness returning.
The armless man, however, vanished without a trace.
It was as if...
he had been 'transferred' into the other's body.
Robert watched, awe-struck, no matter how many times he'd seen it.
The nearly dead soldier, stunned, saw his restored limbs and knelt, gratitude overflowing, his voice trembling as he bowed before Yhwach's boots.
Yhwach, however, didn't look back, continuing:
"And so..."
"Fulfill their wishes."
As he spoke, reishi vortices erupted in the camp.
Soldiers watched as their comrades' bodies glowed, reishi swirling and merging into others, healing wounds and erasing sorrow.
They became whole again.
Yhwach's voice continued, addressing Robert:
"Then, earn their loyalty."
"Woooh—!!!"
In that moment, the camp, once filled with moans and despair, erupted in cheers rivaling a miracle.
Yhwach raised his hand, his voice rising:
"The fallen are forever with you!"
All darkness lifted from the soldiers' hearts, leaving only faith and gratitude toward him.
They pledged their loyalty and lives.
Even Robert knelt, filled with reverence and aspiration.
—How foolish.
Because people are thus, someone must ascend to be 'God.'
Yhwach thought, watching the scene.
If not for the need to continue draining the Soul Society's power, he might not waste effort on this.
He recalled the Shinigami he'd faced during the retreat.
Instinctively, he tried to use the All-Seeing Eye to predict their impact on the world's fate.
But when his power collided with the seal within him—his 'father's restraint'—he realized:
He was no longer 'all-knowing.'
Yet...
Yhwach's brow furrowed, his gaze heavy.
Though he knew his fate, the path to his end remained unclear.
Like the unexpected events during the assault:
Liltotto's death, Saketake Tsuzaburo's attack—none had appeared in his visions.
These surprises made him reluctant to lose any strength.
And that young Shinigami who humiliated Liltotto and acted insanely in battle...
Fujimiya Makoto.
Yhwach recalled the future he'd probed decades ago.
Had he truly seen this man's 'existence' then?
If someone could kill Liltotto, why had he ignored him?
Why did his visions always show Liltotto and Saketake dying together?
Why did he know nothing of Fujimiya Makoto's abilities?
Without seeing him, could he truly 'know' him?
Did he master a Bankai?
Questions flooded Yhwach's mind.
This uncertainty weighed heavily on him.
For one who believed himself 'all-knowing,' the 'unknown' was most alarming.
This fear was profound for someone who'd fought death since birth.
"Robert."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Yhwach turned to the respectful man behind him: "What do you know of the Shinigami named Fujimiya Makoto?"
Robert's eyes twitched, and he took a deep breath.
After a long pause, he said cautiously:
"Your Majesty."
"The last time I saw him, he seemed normal."
"I never expected him to be so... abnormal."
He hadn't noticed the man's insanity during their last meeting!
Hearing this, Yhwach nodded deeply.
Such a deeply hidden abnormality, unseen even in his future visions.
He needed to pay close attention!
"This is the last medical camp."
"Prepare the troops."
Yhwach exhaled: "In seven days, launch the second assault on the Soul Society."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As Robert left,
Yhwach looked at the darkening sky, murmuring:
"The unknown... abnormality?"
...
"Achoo—"
Fujimiya Makoto sat in the center of the training ground, sneezing.
Before he could wonder, a bamboo stick tapped his shoulder, making a 'snap.'
Unohana Retsuzō's gentle voice sounded:
"Focus."
Fujimiya Makoto sat up straight.
On his lap lay his small sword.
After a moment, he looked up at the smiling woman across the small tea table.
He felt uneasy.
It had been nearly two hours since Unohana brought him here.
Aside from her initial instruction to 'sit still,' she'd remained silent, watching him.
It was unnerving.
After another moment, he spoke softly:
"Unohana-sensei."
"Are... are you angry?"
Seeing his realization, Unohana set down her teacup, her gaze gentle:
"Makoto-kun."
"There's more hidden within you, isn't there?"
Fujimiya Makoto froze.
Unohana's voice continued: "Both Captain-Commander and I have noticed."
"You're special, Makoto-kun."
"After every major battle, your strength increases significantly."
"But this growth isn't consistent."
"What surprised us was your leap from Third Class to this level."
The gentle woman looked directly into his eyes, her voice trembling with excitement.
Fujimiya Makoto noticed her eagerness, her mirror-like eyes glowing with heat.
"If you survive this war,"
"you can go further, Makoto-kun."
"Right?"
He understood her intent.
It was both a challenge and a promise to survive.
He relaxed, smiling:
"Yes."
"I'll survive."
Changing the subject, he teased: "But Unohana-sensei, remember our bet."
"If I lose, you must accept the consequences."
Unohana's smile remained, unbothered:
"The winner takes all."