"So this… is my lord's Zanpakutō release."
From a distance, Shisui watched as Shihōin Yanmo's blade flared with radiant light. Countless thin, silvery threads shimmered between the sword and the kneeling Uchihas who had just completed their contract.
He knew this ritual well—he had already experienced it himself not long ago.
In the short time under Yanmo's guidance, Shisui had learned the foundations of a Shinigami's art.
Sword, Fist, Step, Spell—the four disciplines of a Death God.
Among them, the Zanpakutō was the heart of their power.
Each Zanpakutō's form and ability was born from its master's soul.
When one learns its true name and releases it, the sword's sealed strength erupts in two stages—Shikai and Bankai.
Through this release, a Shinigami's power multiplies.
Yanmo had seen the potential for divinity in Shisui and decided to train him further. What began as a test had become certainty. Shisui's gift was extraordinary—he had already mastered Shunpo in mere days, a feat that had taken Yanmo months. The realization deepened his confidence.
"When we return to the Soul Society," Yanmo said lightly, "I'll find you a Zanpakutō of your own—a true Asauchi."
An Asauchi—the blank blade that becomes a Shinigami's soul-bound weapon.
The words made Shisui's chest tighten with excitement.
A mere human like me… could I truly become a Death God?
The contract Yanmo had just performed was part of his Zanpakutō's Shikai ability.
His blade, Setsuna, could forge bonds between souls—linking, communicating, merging power.
After years of refinement, Yanmo had mastered its use.
By connecting souls, he could form an unbreakable pact—a shared destiny between himself and others.
As the wielder, he held absolute authority, the power to enforce the contract and to claim a portion of his followers' strength and spiritual pressure.
There was no limit to how many could be bound, only how much reiatsu he possessed.
The ability resembled Yhwach's Bestowal—though far less domineering.
The stronger his spirit grew, the more souls he could link.
Even so, forging a bond with over a thousand Uchiha had consumed nearly half his energy.
It was a heavy price, but it ensured their stability when crossing worlds.
Later, once they adapted to life in the Soul Society, he could release the weaker ones—the elderly and the children—from the bond if needed.
Yanmo raised his sword again and addressed the clan.
"Next, I will open the Gate Between Worlds. Through it, you will reach the Soul Society—the land where the dead live. From now on, that will be your home."
He turned to them with calm authority.
"I've already given Shisui the necessary instructions. He will explain everything in detail. Act wisely once you arrive."
"As you command!" the Uchiha replied as one.
Yanmo walked through the crowd. Wherever he passed, the proud clan knelt, heads bowed, reverence replacing their once-defiant pride.
At the far end of the street, before thousands of watching eyes, Yanmo lifted his sword.
"Sever—Setsuna!"
The blade glimmered again, its surface flowing with liquid light that shimmered under the moon like ice.
He swung once.
Boom!
A sharp, crystalline crack echoed through the night—then another, and another.
Before their stunned eyes, a vast rift split open in midair.
Darkness swirled inside like the gaping maw of a colossal beast.
Yanmo snapped his fingers softly.
From within the void, a massive sliding wooden door emerged—ancient, solemn, majestic.
With a graceful wave of his hand, reiatsu poured forth, forming a wide, luminous path stretching from the ground to the gate.
The door creaked open, revealing a blinding white glow.
"This is the Senkaimon," Yanmo said. "Pass through it, and you'll reach the Soul Society—the realm of the dead."
He stood beside the fracture, his Zanpakutō thrust between dimensions to hold the rift open.
The Uchihas stared in awe, eyes wide, breaths caught in their throats.
"He… cut space itself…"
"This is divine power…"
Even Fugaku's composure wavered.
In all the legends of the shinobi world, to tear open space was an act of myth. Even time-space ninjutsu paled before this.
To see it done so effortlessly before them—this was no jutsu. This was godhood.
Yanmo's gaze fell on Shisui.
"Go first. Let them see it's safe. I've prepared an estate beyond the gate. Keep order. No wandering."
"Yes, my lord."
Shisui's throat tightened. His eyes glowed with excitement and unease.
Beyond that doorway lay another world—a second life.
He stepped onto the glowing path, each footfall ringing softly. When he reached the gate, he vanished into the light.
Moments later, his figure reappeared within the frame. He looked back, nodded firmly to the others, and disappeared again.
"Go," Yanmo commanded. "All of you."
"Yes, my lord!"
Guided by Fugaku and the Police Force, the Uchiha moved in steady ranks toward the shining passage.
"Wife, let me carry the child."
"Mother, I'll take you."
"Come, little brother, little sister—don't fall behind."
One by one, they passed Yanmo, bowing deeply before stepping through the light into the unknown.
Yanmo's expression did not change as he counted the flow of souls and gauged his remaining strength. It would be enough. Barely—but enough.
He looked into the black rift, eyes calm yet filled with quiet satisfaction.
This was the second power of Setsuna—Severance.
It could cut through anything—tangible or abstract, visible or unseen—so long as it existed within his perception and his spirit was strong enough to sustain it.
Even space itself could be cleaved apart.
With this ability, Yanmo could slice through the barrier between worlds, walking freely between the Soul Society and the Shinobi Realm.
It had taken him two full days to open the first gate. But once the link was established and anchored by his Connection ability, future travel would be effortless.
A single swing at the stored coordinates would reopen the passage at will.
Connection and Severance—
Two opposing powers, both born from his Zanpakutō, Setsuna.
Two sides of the same blade.