Firedon
Lazy Sleepy Cat
- Location
- Germany
Yep still taking in new people.
Now You Feel Like Number None [Bleach Arrancar Quest]
- Thread starter Omicron
- Start date
- Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
FoolsandTools
Post-Depression Panic
- Location
- Spiritually Lost
[X] Amity
I like it, also it reminds me of puyopuyo and thats always a good time
Probably Alphonse and Shutara, at least until they get around to making one of they're own, then we'll swap off looking after eachother's kids. Having a childhood friend will be good for the little one.
Besides that, I dont trust Orihime OR Ichigo to take care of her properly, not until we get to know them better atleast, Orihime would be caring but food wise I think its risky, Ichigo could work but I expect him to get hung up on the whole "ghost-god baby" thing. Our other options are Sung-sun and Illforte, could work but they are the "youngest" and least experienced couple. Our other best option is obviously Grimmjow and Luppi. Luppi would hate it, which is great, but he would also be great at it, because he's great at reading emotions and he has access to multiple limbs, AND he would hate it! Not only would he hate it he would love it too! It also lets our kid have more male influences in her life, and expanding horizons is always important. The biggest risk to that is he could and would be a bad influence.
I like it, also it reminds me of puyopuyo and thats always a good time
Probably Alphonse and Shutara, at least until they get around to making one of they're own, then we'll swap off looking after eachother's kids. Having a childhood friend will be good for the little one.
Besides that, I dont trust Orihime OR Ichigo to take care of her properly, not until we get to know them better atleast, Orihime would be caring but food wise I think its risky, Ichigo could work but I expect him to get hung up on the whole "ghost-god baby" thing. Our other options are Sung-sun and Illforte, could work but they are the "youngest" and least experienced couple. Our other best option is obviously Grimmjow and Luppi. Luppi would hate it, which is great, but he would also be great at it, because he's great at reading emotions and he has access to multiple limbs, AND he would hate it! Not only would he hate it he would love it too! It also lets our kid have more male influences in her life, and expanding horizons is always important. The biggest risk to that is he could and would be a bad influence.
- Location
- Norway
What, you didn't think parents ripped apart the universe and stitched the parts together into new life between them?
Because honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if that's how it feels for many parents. An enormous responsibility and the most important thing in existence.
On that note.
[X] Amity
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
With as many votes as the next two options combined, I believe we can call it for Amity.
CXLII. John 3:16
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
CXLII. John 3:16
A few more moments before the return to the world. A few more moments before she wakes. A few more moments before all this war and sorrow and struggle finally ends, and a new chapter of your existence, one filled perhaps with even greater challenges (though of a different kind) begins. You look upon the peaceful sleeping face of this little familiar stranger, so new and yet so long in the making.
"She needs a name," Cirucci whispers.
You nod. Then you gently wrap Cirucci's arm around her, drifting a little ways back, and clasp your hands, one back to you, the other to Cirucci, like a handshake seen from the side, or perhaps two lovers holding hands as they walk. Cirucci tilts her head, thinking.
"Love… Phile… Amitia? Amity."
You smile and nod. A name not trying to inscribe her future in stone, not a promise or an expectation, but a remembrance. A name bearing the memory of all the steps that led to her being one of you.
"Amity. Yes." Cirucci grins, and looks down at the infant in her arms. "Welcome, Amity, Queen of Souls."
You giggle, drifting back to her and holding hands around… Amity.
"Are you ready?" says a gentle voice from the side. You look, and there is Alphonse, deep circles under his eyes but an earnest smile on his lips. One moment he is alone and the next the Weaver is there beside him, spooling thread in her hands.
"I'm afraid things are about to become… rather less peaceful," she says, her voice deep with fatigue. "A newborn rarely stays silent for long."
You nod firmly. It's time.
"All together now…" Cirucci whispers.
You allow this moment of timeless peace to end.
Amity lets out her first cry.
The white void seems to end as quickly as it arose. One moment all consciousness seems abolished and in the next it is violently, cataclysmically thrust back into existence. The first sound is a babe's wail, the ear-splitting scream of a life taking breath for the first time, opening its lungs to the full and breathing out the sheer overwhelming feeling of being alive.
The central castle, whole again, emerges from the void like a dagger slicing through it. As its gardens and pools and walls unfold, the gaspin, shuddering saviors of reality emerge too from a second's nonexistence.
Ichigo stumbles to his feet, swaying like a reed in the wind, trying to make sense of what happened. One moment he was on the ground, unable to move, watching as the others tried to take down Barragan. The next here he is, as the air bubbles and pops all around him, trees coming out of the ground, streets spiraling out from the inner districts of the Seireitei reborn.
"Orihime?" he calls out. "Tatsuki?"
"Ichigo!" a voice cries out - he rushes past a dazed Grimmjow reflexively clutching Luppi against his chest and finds Orihime just as haggard as he is, helped upright by what looks like Tatsuki with ten years of adulthood and karate shot straight into her veins (it's somewhat distracting).
"Are you two alright?" he asks, and Orihime nods. Then Tatsuki looks up, eyes wide, and he follows her gaze.
In the sky are small figures far enough he can't quite make them out, especially as they appear to be shrouded in a shifting light - from black to grey to white, then from red to purple to blue, and back again and again. That light grows - becomes like a star shining across the vast expanse of the world as it is being remade.
Then they all feel a great wind stir, and raw power begins to flow in and around them, upwards; Ichigo's black coat beats madly in that wind which takes on substance and light, threads of spiritual power rushing upwards to that star above… And then out, away from it, back into the world.
Somewhere in a forest beaten by rain and wind, a mother swallow watches, uncomprehending and as sorrowful as a swallow's mind can be, as the heat and pulse that dwelled so peacefully inside her egg fades away, without shock or fanfare. Not as if something terrible had happened all of a sudden, but instead as if some vital principle, some needed essence that would have allowed the little swallow inside to turn from a sleeping body into a bright and chipper mind eager to grow its first feathers and fly, simply… wasn't there. Would never be there. Her egg sits, silent and cold and dead as stone.
Then a spark, falling with all the slow grace of a snowflake, alights upon the shelf, and fades within.
And all of a sudden the egg comes alive with the sound of a beak tap-tap-tapping from within, and the mother swallow knows as much happiness as a swallow's mind can grasp.
The first souls enter Amity like a first heartbeat. Her breathless wail ends on a hiccup, then these souls pulse back into the world, falling like raindrops upon the earth for a thousand children. The flow of souls is like the flow of blood, oxygenating the world; only its continuous circulation maintains the realms of Creation both separate and whole, organs functioning fully and well, and it resuming is enough to halt the collapse of everything. But blood on its own is not enough without breath to suffuse it with strength.
There is a will now, however young and unformed. There is the guidance of parents and godparents but they are not the whole, they do not control what happens now, only help it along. A vast and curious mind expands to the proportions of a universe it cannot and does not understand, and clumsy fingers paint with the color of life.
There, in the outer districts of the Rukongai, a fallen Gillian slowly decaying. A tendril of light touches it and it instantly scatters into motes of light, pulled back into the bright jewel. A thousand souls are cleansed, mended, given peace from the torment of existence as a Menos. Then they are sent on their way to find new life and the blessing of forgetfulness. The spiritual strength of that Gillian is divested from then and turned upon the world, stitching a wound in the sky, turning a gash of bleeding turquoise into calm azure and white clouds.
Whether the souls of Barragan Luisenbarn and Aizen Sosuke are among these first of souls to be given a new chance at life, or whether they are gone forever, annihilated before the new Queen of Souls could be born, none may ever know. But their godlike power is taken and poured back into the world to fix the damage they so eagerly brought about, and perhaps that must suffice as redemption for their sins.
The storms have fallen silent and the earthquakes still in the world of the living; as millions look in fear and awe, liquid lightning comes down from the sky. Where it touches the smouldering embers of a gigantic forest fire it grows a thousand thousand trees out of the soil. It raises broken houses from their splinters and it pours the floodwater back into its rivers. And then it looks closer and it finds wounds older than this momentary apocalypse; and where barren earth has replaced forest it grows new vegetation, and where dead and dry reefs stretch like underwater graves it brings life anew.
The white sands of Hueco Mundo are blown by an otherworldly wind, a wind that sweeps clean the ruins of millenia, exposing them and their secrets to all who may find them, returning what history it has to the world of the dead. The survivors of the great rebellion against the man who pretended to godhood gasp as lightning strikes in their midst, but they are spared its burn: instead it buries into the soil, fusing with the conjoined memories of Beauty and the Sea, and a thick blanket of black soil and dark vegetation expands once more, so much farther this time. Enormous stone blocks from the broken sky of Las Noches sink into the ground, torn apart at the most essential level to be turned into more soil, more life. Forests and fields stretch out for miles; the sole intact structure remaining, the amphitheatre where the Numeros found shelter and which Starrk protected, is molded like putty, expanded in size and amenities so that all those who remain in the starless world may find not only shelter, but comfort. And for its last action in this, the dour and miserable world which needs love the most, it puts in the sky a strange star, one half burning and one half cold, to turn slowly so as to bring about a day and night for all of Hueco Mundo and not only those who dwell under a false sky - a better world, but one still haunted by so many grief-stricken beasts. The newborn divinity has not the power to free them all from their pain in one sweeping gesture.
Then the expanding mind turns its attention to Soul Society, but already it is growing tired. It fills the fields with ripe crops and fat herds, it creates thick woodlands where the logging outposts are, it fills old quarries with good, clean stone and valuable ores, but the strength leaves it before it can work the million finer details of the city itself - it leaves to the teeming crowds within the task of rebuilding their world. It pulls back within itself.
The singular act of creation is ended. The worlds are healed, as much as they can be. The souls flow, returning life and order to the universe. Amity works her little jaw in that sleeping chewing motions that infants often have, and curls up into her mothers' arms. She will not remember that moment, at least not for a very long while. And it will be a great many years before such power comes back to her. For now, she sleeps, the souls of the universe singing lullabies as they pass through her.
It's over.
It's beginning again.
The Captains and Lieutenant of Soul Society have gathered and are now looking up at you with expressions ranging from amazement to intense concern. You recognize some of them, though not all - and you realize, to your own amazement, that you don't have to care about that. You don't have to worry about their names and their powers and their personalities and what threat they pose to you - later, yes. But not today. Not in that moment.
RIght now you stand so far above them it's funny.
Cirucci and you drift down gently, the blinding glow fading with each yard descended, until it is fully gone when you touch the ground among your friends old and new, and all there is to see of you is two very tired, very happy women, and a sleeping baby. The trees sway gently in the wind, blooming full with pink and white flowers as if Barragan had never touched them, and the dry, barren ground is now a soft carpet of grass across which weaves a pavement path towards the outer districts - the walls that divided the palace from the city are gone now, the only separation the transition from grass to cobblestone street.
The sun shines bright in the sky. You tilt your head back and close your eyes, letting its warmth caress your skin.
"Holy shit," Luppi blurts out, pulling you out of your reverie. "What- I mean- Like-"
You turn around to face him and cock an eyebrow. Is this a satisfying enough story for his collection?
"What? Uh, yeah, duh! Is that a baby?"
You grin. Is he jealous?
"Grimmjow! I want a baby too!"
Grimmjow, who was watching all this with a bemused expression, suddenly flashes bright red and starts choking. You burst into a fit of soundless laughter, and must take a step away from Cirucci and Amity to wipe the corners of your eyes. Your fiancée is all too happy to hold the baby tighter and to straighten her back proudly as if she were bearing-
Actually any metaphor you could come up with would pale compared to the reality of things. She is holding God in her arms. Not much can match up to that.
You wonder where Alphonse and the Weaver might be. Were they ever physically present in that strange vision-world, or simply reaching with their souls from afar? Perhaps they are in Hueco Mundo still, sitting side by side in that gentle grove.
A voice pricks your ears, though no one else seems to hear it - whispers among the ranks of the Shinigami brought to you by your bracelet.
"...Captain Kyoraku, we outnumber them and aren't as exhausted as we are, so if we strike with the benefit of surprise we can both decapitate the Arrancar leadership and dissect whatever these two and their alleged baby are and figure out the power to-"
"Mayuri, the next time you suggest dissecting anything that isn't a frog, I am having you vivisected. And the frog better have died of natural causes after a long and happy life. Arrancar, is this the one you're telling me is in charge?"
"Informally, but yes. I strongly recommend you abide by any honorific she desires; it is very likely that by this time tomorrow Cirucci Thunderwitch will officially be the new ruler of Hueco Mundo, and you will need her - our - help in the coming days."
"Fine. Fine, urgh."
You gently tug on Cirucci's sleeve and she turns around just as one of the Shinigami clears his throat. His unusual attire marks him as someone of importance; he is tall, middle-aged-looking but weathered early by the trials of long life, and he wears a long flower-patterned overcoat over his black robes. A half-broken straw hat covers his black haired tied in a ponytail, and after a moment's consideration he takes off the hat and holds it against his chest before advancing. The gesture of humility amuses you; you look past him and there you see Ilforte, inclining his head to you in a nod of respect. As ever, Grimmjow's squire is quick to ensure protocol and etiquette smooth over any difficulties there might be in communication.
The man clears his throat.
"Well, hm," he starts awkwardly - and you know instantly that it is an affect. That this man likes to play the fool, the bumbling but cheerful and amicable man, in order to more easily go through life and have others let their guards down around him. "Hello, ah, Princess Cirucci? I am Kyoraku Shunsui, acting Captain-Commander of the Gotei Thirteen. It is my privilege to welcome you to the Seireitei. Is there anything…?" he starts, before letting the sentence drop off. Trying to gauge you, perhaps.
Cirucci gives you a glance, and you nod firmly. She too takes a step forward to stand out from the group. She is a strange picture - some strap in her prosthetic leg must have broken in all the commotion before or after her release and she has an awkward limp, and her dress has suffered its share of battle-damage but is still recognizably a work of art. Her face is circled with fatigue but her eyes are fierce. Golondrina sits on her back a promise of violence, but both her hands are occupied cradling Amity.
She scans the group of wary Reapers, then settles again on Kyoraku. She smiles.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Soul Society. I am Cirucci Thunderwitch, although you may choose to address me as the Mother of God. I have just reduced the King of Time to ionized dust and saved the universe. This is my dearest fiancée, Nemo Elcorbuzier, the brilliant mind behind the fall of Aizen. This child which you see in my arms is the new Soul-Queen, as well as my beloved daughter, Amity. Though our people have much to discuss, this must wait until all have had a chance to recover from the events of today. We shall henceforth be departing for Hueco Mundo, where we ask that you leave us a week to rest, make accommodations for our newborn child, and begin repairs on the palace of Las Noches before you send emissaries to discuss the terms of your fealty-"
You poke her with your elbow.
"-the terms of our mutual cooperation as Shinigami, Arrancars and humans bridge the gap between our worlds and our peoples, begin mending the wounds of the past, and work together to a brighter future and a world built on justice and equity. Should you, now or in the future, ever attempt to bring harm to our daughter or take her from us, I shall reduce this dismal place to a smoking ruin. Thank you for your time."
What comes next is possibly the most awkward silence you have ever heard, except for Cirucci, who feels no awkwardness whatsoever and indeed looks rather like the cat who did not merely get the cream but secured the world's entire cream supply and annexed the dairy industry, reclining in her creamy throne as legions of felines gather at her feet for the tiniest drop.
Then she turns to the rather stunned group of non-Arrancars among your allies.
"Thank you for your help. I expect you too will desire to return to your own world for a while, but know that you are all of you invited to our wedding and the subsequent baptism of our daughter."
You narrow your eyes. Baptism? What a strange idea. Who could baptize God herself?
"If you open the Good Book, Nemo, you will find that the baptism of God features quite prominently!"
But that book is fiction.
"Please. Not fiction. Allegory."
You chuckle. Grimmjow, his Fraccions and Luppi exchange a last few jokes and jabs with Ichigo's friends, and pull away to join up with you. Cirucci gives you a nod, a hint to open the Garganta and the way back home; you go to do it, then pause, hesitant. It seems so fast.
You turn around, looking at the three groups that have formed again. The remainders of the Gotei Thirteen. Ichigo and his group of renegade friends. The Arrancars, about to leave.
Ichigo, looking oddly nervous, walks out of his group and towards Cirucci.
"Hey," he starts.
"...yes?" Cirucci says, raising an eyebrow.
"Didn't we just save the world together?"
"That we did."
"So…"
An awkward silence. Cirucci herself doesn't seem to grasp what he's getting to.
Then Ichigo takes a deep breath, opens his arms, and hugs her.
Cirucci gasps. Some kind of unseen dam breaks. Everyone involved in that last battle, from the last standing against Barragan to those who split off to save civilians, progressively jumps in, turning an awkward one-sided hug into a giant pile-up of laughing, crying, screaming bodies all exploding with the relief of having lived through it all. Together.
"Touch me not!" shouts the Princess of Thunder. "Touch me not!" Her pleas go unanswered.
Of course you join in. Does anyone need to ask? Then the commotion of voice and the rustling of bodies wakes the baby, and you laugh to yourself as you extract her from Cirucci's arm and take Amity out of the crowd, leaving her poor mother subject to such crude affections. You rock your daughter gently in your arms, watching her look back at you.
You think she has Cirucci's eyes, and your nose. Or maybe it's just your mind telling you that.
Her nose and her eyes are her own. She is her own self. Her own, beautiful little person, and you can't wait to truly meet her.
In the end, Cirucci decides to stick around long enough for everyone to have tea.
Congratulations! You have reached the end of the Final Arc. This marks the end of the story proper, although I will be posting one or more Epilogue updates containing vignettes adressing the future of various characters and unresolved questions (though likely not all that could be answered), which is closer to what I'd consider the 'actual' ending of the story, hence this more casual message for the time being. Then it will truly be the end, and we will be moving on to bold new adventures elsewhere. If you wish to support me in my creative endeavours present and future, you can buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi.
Thank you for reading.
A few more moments before the return to the world. A few more moments before she wakes. A few more moments before all this war and sorrow and struggle finally ends, and a new chapter of your existence, one filled perhaps with even greater challenges (though of a different kind) begins. You look upon the peaceful sleeping face of this little familiar stranger, so new and yet so long in the making.
"She needs a name," Cirucci whispers.
You nod. Then you gently wrap Cirucci's arm around her, drifting a little ways back, and clasp your hands, one back to you, the other to Cirucci, like a handshake seen from the side, or perhaps two lovers holding hands as they walk. Cirucci tilts her head, thinking.
"Love… Phile… Amitia? Amity."
You smile and nod. A name not trying to inscribe her future in stone, not a promise or an expectation, but a remembrance. A name bearing the memory of all the steps that led to her being one of you.
"Amity. Yes." Cirucci grins, and looks down at the infant in her arms. "Welcome, Amity, Queen of Souls."
You giggle, drifting back to her and holding hands around… Amity.
"Are you ready?" says a gentle voice from the side. You look, and there is Alphonse, deep circles under his eyes but an earnest smile on his lips. One moment he is alone and the next the Weaver is there beside him, spooling thread in her hands.
"I'm afraid things are about to become… rather less peaceful," she says, her voice deep with fatigue. "A newborn rarely stays silent for long."
You nod firmly. It's time.
"All together now…" Cirucci whispers.
You allow this moment of timeless peace to end.
Amity lets out her first cry.
***
The white void seems to end as quickly as it arose. One moment all consciousness seems abolished and in the next it is violently, cataclysmically thrust back into existence. The first sound is a babe's wail, the ear-splitting scream of a life taking breath for the first time, opening its lungs to the full and breathing out the sheer overwhelming feeling of being alive.
The central castle, whole again, emerges from the void like a dagger slicing through it. As its gardens and pools and walls unfold, the gaspin, shuddering saviors of reality emerge too from a second's nonexistence.
Ichigo stumbles to his feet, swaying like a reed in the wind, trying to make sense of what happened. One moment he was on the ground, unable to move, watching as the others tried to take down Barragan. The next here he is, as the air bubbles and pops all around him, trees coming out of the ground, streets spiraling out from the inner districts of the Seireitei reborn.
"Orihime?" he calls out. "Tatsuki?"
"Ichigo!" a voice cries out - he rushes past a dazed Grimmjow reflexively clutching Luppi against his chest and finds Orihime just as haggard as he is, helped upright by what looks like Tatsuki with ten years of adulthood and karate shot straight into her veins (it's somewhat distracting).
"Are you two alright?" he asks, and Orihime nods. Then Tatsuki looks up, eyes wide, and he follows her gaze.
In the sky are small figures far enough he can't quite make them out, especially as they appear to be shrouded in a shifting light - from black to grey to white, then from red to purple to blue, and back again and again. That light grows - becomes like a star shining across the vast expanse of the world as it is being remade.
Then they all feel a great wind stir, and raw power begins to flow in and around them, upwards; Ichigo's black coat beats madly in that wind which takes on substance and light, threads of spiritual power rushing upwards to that star above… And then out, away from it, back into the world.
***
Somewhere in a forest beaten by rain and wind, a mother swallow watches, uncomprehending and as sorrowful as a swallow's mind can be, as the heat and pulse that dwelled so peacefully inside her egg fades away, without shock or fanfare. Not as if something terrible had happened all of a sudden, but instead as if some vital principle, some needed essence that would have allowed the little swallow inside to turn from a sleeping body into a bright and chipper mind eager to grow its first feathers and fly, simply… wasn't there. Would never be there. Her egg sits, silent and cold and dead as stone.
Then a spark, falling with all the slow grace of a snowflake, alights upon the shelf, and fades within.
And all of a sudden the egg comes alive with the sound of a beak tap-tap-tapping from within, and the mother swallow knows as much happiness as a swallow's mind can grasp.
***
The first souls enter Amity like a first heartbeat. Her breathless wail ends on a hiccup, then these souls pulse back into the world, falling like raindrops upon the earth for a thousand children. The flow of souls is like the flow of blood, oxygenating the world; only its continuous circulation maintains the realms of Creation both separate and whole, organs functioning fully and well, and it resuming is enough to halt the collapse of everything. But blood on its own is not enough without breath to suffuse it with strength.
There is a will now, however young and unformed. There is the guidance of parents and godparents but they are not the whole, they do not control what happens now, only help it along. A vast and curious mind expands to the proportions of a universe it cannot and does not understand, and clumsy fingers paint with the color of life.
There, in the outer districts of the Rukongai, a fallen Gillian slowly decaying. A tendril of light touches it and it instantly scatters into motes of light, pulled back into the bright jewel. A thousand souls are cleansed, mended, given peace from the torment of existence as a Menos. Then they are sent on their way to find new life and the blessing of forgetfulness. The spiritual strength of that Gillian is divested from then and turned upon the world, stitching a wound in the sky, turning a gash of bleeding turquoise into calm azure and white clouds.
Whether the souls of Barragan Luisenbarn and Aizen Sosuke are among these first of souls to be given a new chance at life, or whether they are gone forever, annihilated before the new Queen of Souls could be born, none may ever know. But their godlike power is taken and poured back into the world to fix the damage they so eagerly brought about, and perhaps that must suffice as redemption for their sins.
The storms have fallen silent and the earthquakes still in the world of the living; as millions look in fear and awe, liquid lightning comes down from the sky. Where it touches the smouldering embers of a gigantic forest fire it grows a thousand thousand trees out of the soil. It raises broken houses from their splinters and it pours the floodwater back into its rivers. And then it looks closer and it finds wounds older than this momentary apocalypse; and where barren earth has replaced forest it grows new vegetation, and where dead and dry reefs stretch like underwater graves it brings life anew.
The white sands of Hueco Mundo are blown by an otherworldly wind, a wind that sweeps clean the ruins of millenia, exposing them and their secrets to all who may find them, returning what history it has to the world of the dead. The survivors of the great rebellion against the man who pretended to godhood gasp as lightning strikes in their midst, but they are spared its burn: instead it buries into the soil, fusing with the conjoined memories of Beauty and the Sea, and a thick blanket of black soil and dark vegetation expands once more, so much farther this time. Enormous stone blocks from the broken sky of Las Noches sink into the ground, torn apart at the most essential level to be turned into more soil, more life. Forests and fields stretch out for miles; the sole intact structure remaining, the amphitheatre where the Numeros found shelter and which Starrk protected, is molded like putty, expanded in size and amenities so that all those who remain in the starless world may find not only shelter, but comfort. And for its last action in this, the dour and miserable world which needs love the most, it puts in the sky a strange star, one half burning and one half cold, to turn slowly so as to bring about a day and night for all of Hueco Mundo and not only those who dwell under a false sky - a better world, but one still haunted by so many grief-stricken beasts. The newborn divinity has not the power to free them all from their pain in one sweeping gesture.
Then the expanding mind turns its attention to Soul Society, but already it is growing tired. It fills the fields with ripe crops and fat herds, it creates thick woodlands where the logging outposts are, it fills old quarries with good, clean stone and valuable ores, but the strength leaves it before it can work the million finer details of the city itself - it leaves to the teeming crowds within the task of rebuilding their world. It pulls back within itself.
The singular act of creation is ended. The worlds are healed, as much as they can be. The souls flow, returning life and order to the universe. Amity works her little jaw in that sleeping chewing motions that infants often have, and curls up into her mothers' arms. She will not remember that moment, at least not for a very long while. And it will be a great many years before such power comes back to her. For now, she sleeps, the souls of the universe singing lullabies as they pass through her.
It's over.
It's beginning again.
***
The Captains and Lieutenant of Soul Society have gathered and are now looking up at you with expressions ranging from amazement to intense concern. You recognize some of them, though not all - and you realize, to your own amazement, that you don't have to care about that. You don't have to worry about their names and their powers and their personalities and what threat they pose to you - later, yes. But not today. Not in that moment.
RIght now you stand so far above them it's funny.
Cirucci and you drift down gently, the blinding glow fading with each yard descended, until it is fully gone when you touch the ground among your friends old and new, and all there is to see of you is two very tired, very happy women, and a sleeping baby. The trees sway gently in the wind, blooming full with pink and white flowers as if Barragan had never touched them, and the dry, barren ground is now a soft carpet of grass across which weaves a pavement path towards the outer districts - the walls that divided the palace from the city are gone now, the only separation the transition from grass to cobblestone street.
The sun shines bright in the sky. You tilt your head back and close your eyes, letting its warmth caress your skin.
"Holy shit," Luppi blurts out, pulling you out of your reverie. "What- I mean- Like-"
You turn around to face him and cock an eyebrow. Is this a satisfying enough story for his collection?
"What? Uh, yeah, duh! Is that a baby?"
You grin. Is he jealous?
"Grimmjow! I want a baby too!"
Grimmjow, who was watching all this with a bemused expression, suddenly flashes bright red and starts choking. You burst into a fit of soundless laughter, and must take a step away from Cirucci and Amity to wipe the corners of your eyes. Your fiancée is all too happy to hold the baby tighter and to straighten her back proudly as if she were bearing-
Actually any metaphor you could come up with would pale compared to the reality of things. She is holding God in her arms. Not much can match up to that.
You wonder where Alphonse and the Weaver might be. Were they ever physically present in that strange vision-world, or simply reaching with their souls from afar? Perhaps they are in Hueco Mundo still, sitting side by side in that gentle grove.
A voice pricks your ears, though no one else seems to hear it - whispers among the ranks of the Shinigami brought to you by your bracelet.
"...Captain Kyoraku, we outnumber them and aren't as exhausted as we are, so if we strike with the benefit of surprise we can both decapitate the Arrancar leadership and dissect whatever these two and their alleged baby are and figure out the power to-"
"Mayuri, the next time you suggest dissecting anything that isn't a frog, I am having you vivisected. And the frog better have died of natural causes after a long and happy life. Arrancar, is this the one you're telling me is in charge?"
"Informally, but yes. I strongly recommend you abide by any honorific she desires; it is very likely that by this time tomorrow Cirucci Thunderwitch will officially be the new ruler of Hueco Mundo, and you will need her - our - help in the coming days."
"Fine. Fine, urgh."
You gently tug on Cirucci's sleeve and she turns around just as one of the Shinigami clears his throat. His unusual attire marks him as someone of importance; he is tall, middle-aged-looking but weathered early by the trials of long life, and he wears a long flower-patterned overcoat over his black robes. A half-broken straw hat covers his black haired tied in a ponytail, and after a moment's consideration he takes off the hat and holds it against his chest before advancing. The gesture of humility amuses you; you look past him and there you see Ilforte, inclining his head to you in a nod of respect. As ever, Grimmjow's squire is quick to ensure protocol and etiquette smooth over any difficulties there might be in communication.
The man clears his throat.
"Well, hm," he starts awkwardly - and you know instantly that it is an affect. That this man likes to play the fool, the bumbling but cheerful and amicable man, in order to more easily go through life and have others let their guards down around him. "Hello, ah, Princess Cirucci? I am Kyoraku Shunsui, acting Captain-Commander of the Gotei Thirteen. It is my privilege to welcome you to the Seireitei. Is there anything…?" he starts, before letting the sentence drop off. Trying to gauge you, perhaps.
Cirucci gives you a glance, and you nod firmly. She too takes a step forward to stand out from the group. She is a strange picture - some strap in her prosthetic leg must have broken in all the commotion before or after her release and she has an awkward limp, and her dress has suffered its share of battle-damage but is still recognizably a work of art. Her face is circled with fatigue but her eyes are fierce. Golondrina sits on her back a promise of violence, but both her hands are occupied cradling Amity.
She scans the group of wary Reapers, then settles again on Kyoraku. She smiles.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Soul Society. I am Cirucci Thunderwitch, although you may choose to address me as the Mother of God. I have just reduced the King of Time to ionized dust and saved the universe. This is my dearest fiancée, Nemo Elcorbuzier, the brilliant mind behind the fall of Aizen. This child which you see in my arms is the new Soul-Queen, as well as my beloved daughter, Amity. Though our people have much to discuss, this must wait until all have had a chance to recover from the events of today. We shall henceforth be departing for Hueco Mundo, where we ask that you leave us a week to rest, make accommodations for our newborn child, and begin repairs on the palace of Las Noches before you send emissaries to discuss the terms of your fealty-"
You poke her with your elbow.
"-the terms of our mutual cooperation as Shinigami, Arrancars and humans bridge the gap between our worlds and our peoples, begin mending the wounds of the past, and work together to a brighter future and a world built on justice and equity. Should you, now or in the future, ever attempt to bring harm to our daughter or take her from us, I shall reduce this dismal place to a smoking ruin. Thank you for your time."
What comes next is possibly the most awkward silence you have ever heard, except for Cirucci, who feels no awkwardness whatsoever and indeed looks rather like the cat who did not merely get the cream but secured the world's entire cream supply and annexed the dairy industry, reclining in her creamy throne as legions of felines gather at her feet for the tiniest drop.
Then she turns to the rather stunned group of non-Arrancars among your allies.
"Thank you for your help. I expect you too will desire to return to your own world for a while, but know that you are all of you invited to our wedding and the subsequent baptism of our daughter."
You narrow your eyes. Baptism? What a strange idea. Who could baptize God herself?
"If you open the Good Book, Nemo, you will find that the baptism of God features quite prominently!"
But that book is fiction.
"Please. Not fiction. Allegory."
You chuckle. Grimmjow, his Fraccions and Luppi exchange a last few jokes and jabs with Ichigo's friends, and pull away to join up with you. Cirucci gives you a nod, a hint to open the Garganta and the way back home; you go to do it, then pause, hesitant. It seems so fast.
You turn around, looking at the three groups that have formed again. The remainders of the Gotei Thirteen. Ichigo and his group of renegade friends. The Arrancars, about to leave.
Ichigo, looking oddly nervous, walks out of his group and towards Cirucci.
"Hey," he starts.
"...yes?" Cirucci says, raising an eyebrow.
"Didn't we just save the world together?"
"That we did."
"So…"
An awkward silence. Cirucci herself doesn't seem to grasp what he's getting to.
Then Ichigo takes a deep breath, opens his arms, and hugs her.
Cirucci gasps. Some kind of unseen dam breaks. Everyone involved in that last battle, from the last standing against Barragan to those who split off to save civilians, progressively jumps in, turning an awkward one-sided hug into a giant pile-up of laughing, crying, screaming bodies all exploding with the relief of having lived through it all. Together.
"Touch me not!" shouts the Princess of Thunder. "Touch me not!" Her pleas go unanswered.
Of course you join in. Does anyone need to ask? Then the commotion of voice and the rustling of bodies wakes the baby, and you laugh to yourself as you extract her from Cirucci's arm and take Amity out of the crowd, leaving her poor mother subject to such crude affections. You rock your daughter gently in your arms, watching her look back at you.
You think she has Cirucci's eyes, and your nose. Or maybe it's just your mind telling you that.
Her nose and her eyes are her own. She is her own self. Her own, beautiful little person, and you can't wait to truly meet her.
In the end, Cirucci decides to stick around long enough for everyone to have tea.
Congratulations! You have reached the end of the Final Arc. This marks the end of the story proper, although I will be posting one or more Epilogue updates containing vignettes adressing the future of various characters and unresolved questions (though likely not all that could be answered), which is closer to what I'd consider the 'actual' ending of the story, hence this more casual message for the time being. Then it will truly be the end, and we will be moving on to bold new adventures elsewhere. If you wish to support me in my creative endeavours present and future, you can buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi.
Thank you for reading.
taovkool
Forever Gone
- Location
- The Library, Department of General Works
Quest's over, mate. It's done. Finished. The end. Owari.
It's one hell of a good run, Omicron. Thank you for the wonderful quest.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Thank you Ichigo.
- Location
- Britain
smh no legendary cero the system was rigged from the start
Jokes aside, it's been four years and over a million words. And it's finally done. Well done @Omicron.
Thank you for providing us with this years-long epic.
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- Location
- Malaysia
Do they even exist after... everything? Nemo only mentioned Shutara and Alphonse, and they did help mend the worlds temporarily while Amity is growing. The others seemed to have gone poof.
Also I see Ichigo have a thing for Tatsuki's new toughness lol. Our boy likes 'em strong it seems.
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Psychonix
Dreaming and Scheming
- Location
- Ŭ̊̎͌̌̀̈́ͨͤ̉̽̽͢͏̷͈͕͈͔̳͔̮̬̱̖͜K̈́̂ͮͥͭ͒́ͯ̆ͦ̃͡҉̢̲̖͇͉͠ͅ
Well, it's been one hell of a ride. Thank you for running.
unObservant
Just drifting along, really
- Location
- USA
That was awesome. Still wondering what happened to everyone that *didn't* manage to reach one of the bubbles of safety like human world cities or Starrk's gathering - did they get brought back too, or is life going to have to spread out from those places? - but going forwards all of the worlds have definitely been granted a lot of potential for second chances. Thanks for writing, Omicron - this has been an amazing story.
Side note, but the best place to say this probably *is* right after the last chapter - even though fanworks aren't being collected anymore, just a reminder that I've still been keeping an updated list on page 2198 for if anyone wants to look at the post-final-collection stuff.
Side note, but the best place to say this probably *is* right after the last chapter - even though fanworks aren't being collected anymore, just a reminder that I've still been keeping an updated list on page 2198 for if anyone wants to look at the post-final-collection stuff.
NSMS
Probably evil, unfortunately.
- Location
- A rapidly widening tear in the fabric of reality
No! Cirucci! I shall not be satisfied until she is Legendary everything!
Manic Dogma
This, I can't deny.
- Location
- The far side of tired
- Pronouns
- Whatever
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
Another entry into the elusive "Completed Quest" category. And what an ending.
Incidentally, this was absolutely adorable. Hugger is smiling.
All XP shall be fed to Amity, to make sure she grows up big and strong! 
NSMS
Probably evil, unfortunately.
- Location
- A rapidly widening tear in the fabric of reality
All joking aside, congratulations @Omicron, for this most bittersweet moment. Bitter, because it's the end of the story (or nearly so), and sweet, because all stories must end and few have been as engaging and satisfying in content and conclusion as this one.
Seriously, if you published something professionally I'd definitely buy it.
Seriously, if you published something professionally I'd definitely buy it.
pucflek
Verified simpleton
- Location
- Czech Republic
Omicron just allocated all the XP we would have gotten for killing Barragan and the last dozens of interludes to Amity. Explains why she is a god. The Hogyoku is just there to explain the power jump narratively.All XP shall be fed to Amity, to make sure she grows up big and strong!
It's been a wonderful journey following this quest, thank you Omicron.
Kemayo
A Certain Cheerful Tone Of Voice
- Location
- Missouri
You've done a very impressive thing, Omicron! I look forward to epilogues, of course...
Ah, Cirucci. You've changed so much... but also not.