As moments turned into blurs of what felt like hours—the road he followed no longer resembled stone or earth. It did not crunch beneath his boots, nor did it feel smooth. It felt decided.
Each step landed where it was meant to land, not because the ground supported him, but because the path acknowledged his presence and allowed continuation.
Behind him, the City of Sin faded—not dissolving, not even collapsing. It simply stopped being relevant. Buildings warped subtly, streets then bended inward until perspective itself folded.
The bell tower remained visible the longest, its cracked bell frozen in that eternal, soundless arc. It was as though it held onto a purpose.
But then—even that was gone. There was no darkness, there was no light. There was only context.
Kaizen felt it settle over his shoulders like a mantle he had worn before in another life—or perhaps one he was always meant to wear, but had refused to acknowledge.
His footsteps no longer echoed late and sound no longer lagged. Time itself seemed to pause, not frozen, but waiting.
For him.
The pressure behind his eyes returned—not painful, not violent. Familiar. Intimate. As if something inside his skull had finally aligned with a shape it had been circling for years. But this only solidified a confusion and curiosity.
Then—abruptly dreams surfaced unbidden. They racked his mind, like fragments coalescing into one whole. They were not memories of this world.
But fragments of others.
Cities ending in silence. Skies folding inward. Names erased mid-thought. He saw figures standing at thresholds, hesitating, afraid to finish what they had started.
And always—the same feeling. That feeling that somehow made sense with him. That aligned with him. It wasn't rage nor was it despair.
It was finality.
The path came to an end as his world began folding into itself. There, a vertical gulf stretched before him, vast and immeasurable, yet contained—like the inside of a sealed wound.
His eyes glittered as though clarity had finally taken form. He looked around. Then he realized—he was so busy focusing on the sensations and illusions brought to him by this expanse of space, he didn't even fully acknowledge that he had traversed far.
He glanced back to the front. There he saw something suspended within the vertical gulf. He looked into it only to realize it was something enormous.
It wasn't a structure or a machine. It was a construct.
It resembled a ring at first glance—vast, segmented, each arc etched with symbols that hurt to focus on directly. But the longer he stared, the more the shape refused to settle. Sometimes it looked circular. Other times it resembled a spiral folding into itself. Once, only briefly, it looked like a scar stitched closed by deliberate hands.
It floated without support.
Below it, the abyss pulsed faintly, as though reality itself was breathing.
Kaizen exhaled slowly.
"So this is where you were," he said.
The voice answered immediately—not from ahead, not from below, but from within the space around him.
'This is where I was allowed to remain.'
Kaizen's jaw tightened. "You're not a place are you?" Those words were heavy—far more heavier than he'd realized.
'No.' The voice replied, ancient, heavier than the sky.
The pressure intensified, though surprisingly not crushing, but clarifying. His Conqueror's Haki stirred instinctively, void ash lightning threading faintly across his shoulders before settling again, subdued by something older than force.
"You're not a God either, so what are you?" Kaizen continued.
A pause.
Then—something like amusement.
'Correct. As for what I am—'
The construct pulsed, and for the first time, Kaizen felt it clearly.
The call.
Not a sound.
A resonance.
It was the same feeling he'd had since childhood—the quiet pull at the edge of his awareness. The reason certain dreams lingered longer than they should. The reason some endings felt unfinished to him in a way that bordered on physical discomfort.
"You're the source," Kaizen completed the unfinished sentence, as though he had already figured it out.
'No. I am the remainder.' Yet, the voice corrected him.
His breath caught despite himself. The weight of those words registered with something deep within him. It was a terrifying revelation.
The construct shifted, symbols along its surface rearranging—not randomly, but purposefully, like thoughts changing direction mid-sentence.
'Before Devil Fruits were categorized,' the voice continued, 'before the sea rejected them, before power was systematized… there were concepts.'
Images surfaced in Kaizen's mind without warning. There it was again. That ancient world. No, it wasn't ancient like our past eras—no. It was not primitive in any way. Rather, it was complete.
His eyes widened as he saw the powers that had manifested into reality. The true powers that ruled through Heaven and above Earth. Concepts given form. Authorities made manifest. Powers that did not bend reality, but defined it.
And—
'Annihilation was one of them.'
Kaizen felt his heart pound. But it wasn't from excitement. No—it was from recognition.
"You're not destruction," he said slowly. "You're not even chaos."
'No I am neither indeed.'
The abyss beneath the construct stirred.
'I am the authority to end continuity.'
The words did not echo as everything did before his arrival in this terrain, but they settled with a reverb.
Kaizen swallowed hard. "That's… different."
'Yes. Destruction leaves remnants. Ruin? It left echoes. Annihilation does not. It concludes. Simply as it was meant to.'
Silence followed.
Kaizen stared at the construct, then laughed quietly—once. Not humor. Understanding edged with disbelief.
"So the World Government sealed you," he said. "Buried you in Stillreach. Called it forbidden. Pretended you never existed."
'They did not seal me,' the voice corrected once more.'They sealed the result of my last use.'
The construct rotated slowly, revealing something behind it. A large chamber. One that wasn't carved nor built. It was simply declared as though it had existed outside the efforts of mankind.
Within it lay an object far smaller than Kaizen expected. It was palm-sized and angular.
Its surface shimmered like polished obsidian fractured with faint, shifting light—veins of something that wasn't energy, but intent. Symbols crawled across it slowly, rearranging themselves as if reacting to his presence.
Kaizen felt it immediately.
Not calling.
Resisting.
"That's the artifact," he said.
'Yes.'
"And the Elders want it."
'Yes.'
Kaizen stepped forward.
The air resisted him—not physically, but conceptually. Like reality asking if he was certain he wanted to proceed.
"What is it?" he asked.
The voice hesitated.
For the first time since they'd begun speaking.
'It is a limiter.'
The words struck harder than any revelation so far.
"A… limiter?"
'Yes.'
The construct dimmed slightly.
'When someone like you existed before—someone capable of bearing annihilation without losing themselves—the world nearly ended.'
Images flashed abruptly.
A figure standing where Kaizen stood now. A tall figure, he was a giant to the already tall Kaizen. Standing at 9'10"—his body was coiling with large and insane muscles—a waist that seemed humanely impossible. His back was turned to Kaizen—it was riddled with scars that dripped with remnants of a fallen era.
He was worn and he looked alone. Kaizen realized—it was a choice made too late.
'This was built to ensure that annihilation could never be absolute again,' the voice continued. 'It anchors endings to meaning. Prevents total erasure.'
Kaizen's fists clenched.
"So they don't want to control annihilation," he murmured. "They want to make sure it can never happen completely."
'Correct.'
The implications settled like a weight. The Void Century he knew almost nothing of from his previous life, the lies and—the erasure.
Not because annihilation was used—but because it was feared.
"They're terrified of someone like me," Kaizen said, a sudden glint of controlled madness—a laughter of mocking escaping his lips before he reigned himself in.
There was a pause—Annihilation simply observed the young Kaizen. Indeed to be able to truly wield annihilation as a whole—the head of the host is usually to be a bit mad.
He continued, 'They are terrified of what you represent.'
Kaizen stepped closer to the artifact.
His reflection warped across its surface—not distorted, but… unfinished. Like the object refused to show him as a fixed thing.
"If I take it," he asked, "what happens?"
'Stillreach collapses.'
He inhaled sharply.
"And the people here?"
'They will end.'
Kaizen closed his eyes there at that moment. At those words clarity slowly returned as images flooded him once again.
From the forest that edited minds to the creatures that watched instead of hunted. Then there was the city that lived with consequences instead of denial.
"They didn't choose this," he said, his clarity coming back entirely.
'No, they did not.' Annihilation answered.
"They were abandoned." Kaizen stated.
'Yes.' Annihilation affirmed.
His hand hovered inches from the artifact.
The Conqueror's lightning flickered again, unstable now—not aggressive, but conflicted. His Armament Haki thickened reflexively, then loosened, as though unsure what it was meant to protect him from.
Kaizen laughed softly, bitter.
"So this is the moment," he murmured. "The one the world's been steering me toward."
He closed his eyes and then opened them again. Not at the artifact but rather at himself.
"I could end this place," he said. "Cleanly. Perfectly. No remnants. No suffering."
Annihilation did not respond, it simply observed. Kaizen then lowered his hand.
"…But endings without witnesses are just escapes," he finished quietly.
The construct pulsed at those final words, acceptance flashing within its pulses.
'Then you choose continuation.'
"For now," Kaizen corrected as he stepped back.
The pressure eased immediately, like a held breath released.
The artifact dimmed, symbols slowing.
Stillreach did not collapse. Though, the abyss churned. Kaizen flashed a smirk, small barely worth noticing. But Annihilation saw it. A chuckle, ancient and knowing, reverberated out from within.
Suddenly, forces collided as the air began thickening before deleting chunks of itself. Arcs of purple and red collided before slowly, a fruit materialized above the abyss.
It looked round and charred—faint purplish red arcs flashing around it as swirls and lightning arcs embedded itself onto its surface.
Annihilation spoke, 'As you are right now, you cannot wield full authority over my concept. Thus, you may inherit this power through the incarnation of a Devil Fruit. A logia it shall be.'
Kaizen's heart beat increased as he realized the weight of this choice. Without hesitation he took it into his hands, shoving it into his mouth and swallowing in one full gulp.
Moments passed and yet—nothing had occurred. Until, suddenly, his body simply—exploded into particles. Purplish red particles that swirled around the abyss before finally constructing back into one whole.
An entire being.
Kaizen stood there, shocked. Information about his new power rushing into his head—almost as though it was guiding his future uses and applications of it.
'Go. Time is limited here. I'll stay here a little longer—watching over Stillreach. I'll be waiting for you, Kaizen Voidrend."
Hearing the last few words of Annihilation, Kaizen's eyes briefly widened for a moment. He wanted to say something—ask him what he meant by that sudden given epithet. But he couldn't.
Suddenly—his world changed. Almost as though it was crumbling into one big ball of chaos. His vision blurred as he was shot back out of the expanse of space.
He stood there, speechless. He looked back behind him and the first thing he saw was the bell tower. He then turned to the front of him. His eyes widened once more. Now in front of him, he saw the same creatures from before—kneeling in the same manner as he had left them earlier.
'That bastard wields such power over space-time manipulation..? Is his concept really Annihilation? But shit—the entirety of One Piece has been fucking altered. Changed completely! The power scaling within this world is definitely world destroyer rank!' Kaizen's expression remained impassive despite his chaotic thoughts.
He breathed out a quiet breath—feeling the power pulsing beneath his skin. "You—wake them up. I'm leaving." He said suddenly, the same creature that had first spoken when they arrived, responded to his order and moved diligently.
Kaizen looked around as now his location was fully solidified. He appeared back here as though he had never left it. It was mind boggling to him. Yet somewhere—somehow, a part of him accepted this as normal.
He sighed, a tired one this time. He knew now, that the future would only entail chaos. But he told himself one thing. He was going to take control of that chaos—he was going to wield it within his annihilation.
He was sure of it now, he was destined to bring upon those that defiled and corrupted the Concepts, absolute annihilation!
TO BE CONTINUED—