Chapter 1: 0. Lament
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We fear it because it has no form.
*****
Every human faces death.
Afterward, the human soul becomes a spirit and is sent to the community of the dead, the Soul Society.
As time passes, even the spiritual body is reconstructed and enters the cycle of reincarnation; this is the most universal circle of life.
However, occasionally, souls with lingering regrets in the living world turn into 'Pluses'—ghosts wandering the afterlife.
They possess a hole in their chest and a Chain of Fate connected to it.
Yet, they are tragic beings who inevitably transform into a calamity.
As the Chain of Fate erodes over time, the soul decomposes and is reconstructed.
They take a shape that looks as if dregs from a millstone have been clumped together haphazardly.
That is a Hollow.
They are said to be pitiful, loathsome, and empty monsters that do nothing but eat away at the world.
Furthermore, they wear pure white masks to hide their deficiencies. If they die, their souls are extinguished, leaving behind a residue that accumulates as minute cracks in the Three Realms.
These beings, born from humans, devour humans and extinguish their souls.
There are those who stop this and maintain the balance of the world.
Their name is the Shinigami.
Clad in garments called Shihakusho and wielding blades known as Zanpakuto, they are the righteous, ever-so-righteous guardians of the world's balance!
Could there be anyone more magnificent?
Their flashing blades can easily cleave a Hollow's mask in two, and their swift footwork allows them to traverse vast distances in an instant.
But for humans...
Humans, who cannot even see the malice targeting them, who simply wait for tomorrow only to meet death without ever knowing why...
They needed the power to protect themselves.
Because without spiritual pressure, they cannot see souls.
Because they had no choice but to wait endlessly for the Shinigami.
The children waiting for a mother who died on her way home.
The village orphan who survived alone, unable to protect his family.
The man who was insulted before his own eyes and died in solitude.
... ...
That is why power was needed.
They took up bows to tear apart and kill the things that were once human.
They destroyed souls to protect our 'now.'
Even if the result is a collapsing world where the pouring water crushes everything—like a dam broken by the accumulation of small stones thrown at it.
I hoped that my children would not lose their 'present.'
To shatter the reality where a father's body is split into thousands of pieces while those loathsome men in black claim to be justice.
To endure the pain of a father gouging out his children's eyes with his own hands in the process.
And to change a world that sounds like a scream coming from blood, flesh, and a torn throat.
I cannot say there are no personal grudges, but do you not see that this clearly stems from public interest and benevolence?
I am qualified.
I have the power.
And a future exists as well.
That is the sole mission of those who have surpassed humanity—us, the 'Quincy.'
*****
"You are the one who ruined it! A world without the fear of death!!"
A fierce yet low lament permeates the air.
His anger, resentment, sadness, and fear seep through.
Negative emotions fill that small space.
"Even so."
Fear, is it?
"Sacrificing the future for the sake of the present is not courage."
What an ironic emotion.
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