An unknown amount of time passed...

When Araki's training finally concluded, he slowly opened his Character Template.

Character Template

Name: Araki

Title: Second Generation Kenpachi

Certification: Genryū Menkyo Kaiden

Fullbring: Everlasting Flower (Awakened)

Reiryoku Control: LV10 (+)

Zanpakutō: Yakushi Ruriko-ō Buddha: Eastern Pure Lapis Lazuli World (Bankai)

Reiryoku: First-Class (+)

Spirit Body (King's Key): LV10 (+)

Zanjutsu: LV10 (+)

Hakuda: LV10 (+)

Shunpo: LV5 (+)

Kidō:

Hadō: LV5 (+)

Bakudō: LV5 (+)

Kaidō: LV5 (+)

Devil Fruit Ability:

Ope Ope no Mi (Surgery Fruit) — Awakened

Experience Points: 0

At this moment, the experience Araki had accumulated over the past few months had been completely consumed, and even his three types of Haki had vanished.

Yet, he was stronger than ever.

Notably, the "First-Class" designation on his Reiryoku signified his formal ascension into the ranks of the Top-Class Shinigami. More importantly, his Spirit Body panel now bore an ominous new label—King's Key.

"Tch..."

Araki frowned at the glaring words.

The monk's intentions were clear from the start—should things go awry, he would reshape Araki's body using the power of the Soul King. With that divine infusion, he would forge the King's Key and construct the Detached Palace, ensuring that, at the critical moment, he could forcibly recall Araki into service.

He had done exactly that.

With the monk's help, Araki had obtained a body equivalent to that of Squad Zero.

But instead of joy, Araki felt a heavy unease.

Now that his body held the essence of the King's Key, he had become the Monk's Meat—a sacred object coveted by all those who sought to manipulate the Soul King System.

Any villain wishing to interfere with the Soul King—whether to replace, absorb, or corrupt—would target him first, using him as their entry pass to the Soul King Palace.

Whether Araki wished for it or not, he was now at the epicenter of all major cosmic conflicts.

Unless he secluded himself in Squad Zero like the others... but that was never Araki's way.

He would not sit and wait for death.

He would keep plotting, keep evolving.

"Ha... Monk, you scheming bastard," Araki muttered, his tone sharp but composed.

He stepped calmly out of the Sandō—the spiritual approach path used in his training—and returned to the Inner Hall of the Eye Monk's temple.

"Yo! Araki, done with training already?"

Waiting there was none other than the Sword God, Nimaiya Ōetsu.

"Where's the fake monk?" Araki asked coldly, expression unreadable.

"Uhh..."

Ōetsu scratched his head awkwardly. "Oh right—Ichibe went to the Soul King Fortress to serve His Majesty."

"He also left a message: he's going to stay in the Fortress for a long while. Said he won't show his face publicly for at least a thousand years."

Ōetsu relayed the monk's words word-for-word.

"What a coincidence," Araki replied darkly, "I was headed to the Fortress too—to pay my respects to the Soul King."

He then added, his smile grim:

"According to the deal I made with the monk... now that I've been reshaped by the Soul King's power, I need to go to the Fortress to test if my power works on the Soul King himself."

His eyes narrowed.

"And besides—this might be a perfect chance to settle our score with that fake monk."

Ōetsu fell silent.

He understood Araki's fury all too well.

By logic and loyalty, Ōetsu should've spoken up for the monk—his longtime comrade.

But...

Araki's body had been reforged by the Soul King's very essence.

He now possessed power on par with Squad Zero, and his potential was even more terrifying.

Ōetsu realized he didn't want any part of the conflict brewing between Araki and the Hyosube.

Not now.

Not anymore.

"The Soul King's inner palace is now closed to outsiders."

"Also, Ichibe has confirmed it—your powers have already been fully blessed by the Soul King. They're more than enough to deal with the scattered Soul King fragments across the Three Realms. There's no need for further demonstrations before the Soul King."

After a long silence, Nimaiya Ōetsu explained this to Araki.

"Is that so? In that case... I'll let the fake monk be for now. But let's see how long he thinks he can hide in the Soul King Palace!" Araki's tone was sharp, but then he asked, "Ōetsu, do you know where the Tenjū Chariot is? My training here is nearly complete. I'm ready to return to the ground."

"You're planning to go back?" Ōetsu's expression shifted. "Araki, I have to remind you—your current 'status' is no longer that of a mere Shinigami. In a way... you, I, and even that so-called 'monk'—"

He paused, clearly catching himself from speaking too freely.

"—I mean, Hyōsube Ichibē... we are all beings that now stand above the Shinigami. Do you really intend to return to the Seireitei like this?"

"And if not the Seireitei, then where would I go?" Araki countered calmly.

"I'm not a member of the Royal Guard. I have no obligation to serve in the Soul King Palace and 'protect' the Soul Society."

"Besides, to join Squad Zero, one must have left a mark—achieved something worthy of being etched into the Soul Society's history. My qualifications are shallow. The Seireitei suits me better."

Araki's words were firm, and Ōetsu was taken aback.

"Araki, whether you acknowledge it or not, you're already one of us. And as for 'history'—your ability to stitch together what was never meant to be whole, to restore even Him... that's a feat more profound than you realize."

Ōetsu took a step forward.

"Don't hesitate anymore. Join Squad Zero."

Araki turned his back on him, walking slowly toward the Tenjū Chariot parked at the Omotesandō of the Soul King Palace.

"Ōetsu... Tell me something."

Ōetsu narrowed his eyes.

"Who do you think matters more to me: the Soul King... or Soul Society?"

"That's obvious," Ōetsu replied without pause. "The Soul King. Without Him, the Three Realms would collapse."

"Neither," Araki replied coldly.

"...What?"

Ōetsu's eyelids twitched.

"Then what about this," Araki continued. "Yhwach... or the Central Forty-Six? Who matters more to me?"

This time, Ōetsu hesitated. Yhwach was Araki's sworn enemy, while the Central Forty-Six were the puppet-masters of Soul Society's laws and judgment. Logically, the Forty-Six should matter more.

But given Araki's tone...

"Neither?" Ōetsu guessed cautiously.

"No 'they' are important to me."

Araki's voice faded as he stepped into the Tenjū Chariot.

"They are all things I must one day erase."

Ōetsu remained frozen in the Departure Hall of the Eye Monk, watching the Tenjū Chariot roar down the Heavenly Pillar, carrying Araki away in a blaze of spiritual light.

"So... he's finally gone."

Just then, a familiar voice echoed behind him.

"Still acting the fake monk, are you?" Ōetsu muttered without turning around, his gaze fixed on the vanishing light of Araki's descent.

Behind him stood the true monk, the real name on his lips, watching silently as the one who had refused to belong to any world now tore through them all.

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