Chapter 1.

Why did Hogyouku send me here? To this world, in this era... in these circumstances? Why into a human, into the weakest of beings? Was it some secret desire of mine, unknown even to me? A consequence of defeat and downfall?

I didn't know. My awakening in the feeble body of a human was... unexpected.

Here, for the first time, I felt defeat. Defeat at the hands of my own creation. Greater and yet lesser than the human who managed to surpass me. The highest stage of evolution, a god, a king, who discarded his useless entourage.

For the first time in my life, I felt fear... but not the fear of being defeated. There was a chance of that, and I never denied it. You can't predict everything. I could have fallen many times, even when I was a young Shinigami, crafting grand plans. I could have died in battles against Hollows, but instead, it was my "comrades" who died. I forced them to die for me, sacrificing their lives for a friend, comrade, or loved one. Each of them made their own choice; all I had to do was push them towards the "right" one.

One day, I managed to awaken Shikai. Kyoka Suigetsu. He told me his name himself, without any battles or lengthy conversations, without philosophical discussions with his spirit reflection, without showcasing his power and intellect. He understood me better than anyone else in the world, the only rational being who comprehended me. He embraced my goals, approving of them...

I didn't consider Kyoka Suigetsu a mere manifestation of my soul, as many Shinigami did. Yes, he is a part of me, but he doesn't cease to be a sentient being with a personality distinct from his owner, with his own thoughts and actions. It was more convenient for me to perceive him as another rational being, someone who could listen to my plans and view them from a different perspective, different from mine. In the early days, he was a significant help in our conversations.

Perhaps that's why we succeeded in becoming one.

With the acquisition of Shikai, which allowed me to manipulate all five senses of a sentient being, everything became much easier. I began rapidly accumulating power, conducting my initial experiments, manifesting my genius in the real world, studying the surrounding world, understanding its... decay.

The world was far from perfect. I wanted to change it, and I, more than anyone else, understood what it would take. Strength, armies, intellect, authority, belief... numerous factors.

But I myself was far from perfect. Shinigami had many limitations... a soul had many limitations. It slowly grew in power, the honed mind started rusting with time, the aging of the soul, and even the ephemeral possibility of growing to such a level of power that the soul simply couldn't bear – all of this cast a shadow over my plans and compelled me to seek new solutions to a thousand and one impending problems.

Was I a genius? What is a genius, after all? Is a person who was led by the puppeteer all his life but managed to sever the puppeteer's strings at the last moment a genius? In that case, what does it make the puppeteer, whose puppet managed to break free?

This is a rhetorical question, and everyone will have their own answer.

To some, I was a genius; to others, a monster. Some hailed me as a god and a creator, while others called me a friend or lover.

As many people, as many perspectives. I am willing to look at myself from different angles and agree with all arguments. Only a rational being who understands and accepts themselves can achieve something worthwhile.

I was riding in a commuter train, watching a woman board from the platform. She was old and wrinkled, her breath was labored, her heart weak... it seemed that if given the chance, she would die, sending her soul into the cycle of reincarnation in this world's peculiar system. I could sense death lingering around her, the misty pain in her eyes from her throbbing left leg. Perhaps an old injury or a poorly healed bone.

"Please, have a seat," my lips automatically curved into a slight smile, and I helped the old woman sit down, holding her hand.

She winced again. With that simple act, I had taken away a few minutes of her life and brought her pain, but as a human, I had acted correctly.

Ironically, is the correctness of human actions measured by inflicting pain on others?

Ichigo Kurosaki. My creation, which I guided until the very end. How much pain did he bring to others? How many plans did he shatter, for the sake of which he drenched his hands in the blood of others, both strangers and his own? Did he, the fool, ever truly understand what he was fighting for? For himself, his friends, his family, or the Soul Society, which would inevitably cast him aside like a disposable rag? He was dangerous, and the very fact that everyone found out who his creator was made it doubly dangerous.

Did he realize how futile his existence was? How much pain he inflicted on other rational beings like himself? Did he regret it?

Well, humans are more complex than I initially thought. I can fully acknowledge my mistakes because without them, a rational being won't gain the necessary life experience. A hundred, several centuries, or millennia – they are just numbers. No matter how long you live, you won't become wiser without making mistakes.

Without mistakes, one cannot reach perfection, and as I've said many times, experience is what you gain when you don't get what you want.

The train began to slow down. The elderly woman winced slightly from her aching leg. Her heart skipped a beat, and tears welled up in her eyes as she felt her heart stop. The fear of death came unexpectedly, the realization that this was it. The final moment.

The final glance.

Her gaze fell on me, right into my eyes. The woman let out one last sigh and peacefully passed away, a smile forming on her lips.

I watched the weak soul of the deceased woman, which briefly touched my hair as if in farewell, lightly and invisibly.

Then she disappeared, moving on along her thorny path of unlife.

The train moved again, and the lifeless body slowly slumped onto the startled man beside her. Her head fell backward, and her lifeless hands came to rest on her knees. The man tried to reason with the dead woman, realizing her death only after a moment. Horror flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by disgust, and he reluctantly began to call for help.

The world is not perfect. Nor are humans, demons, angels, and other creatures. Another world, but almost the same problems.

At that moment, I was a human. Not perfect, weak, having lost immortality along with the Hogyoku and practically all my former powers acquired through centuries of rigorous training.

Perhaps I wasn't myself. I wasn't Aizen Sousuke, and at that moment, my true self was locked in its prison, pondering similar thoughts. Perhaps Hogyoku simply created a copy of my personality and planted it in this world and this soul. I couldn't verify it, but did it really matter?

I am who I am, and only the here and now matters. My mind, my memories, and my aspirations are with me. Hogyoku understood better what I needed, which is why it placed me in a human body.

I could have changed it long ago, removed that natural uniqueness, tried to bring it closer to the ephemeral "ideal" by mixing it with local strong souls, but I didn't do that.

As I said, the Hogyoku understood what I needed better, and I know how to accept my mistakes. I was defeated by a human, shattering my plans. He made my ideals waver and planted uncertainty in my soul. Just for a moment, even less, but that was enough to defeat me.

So, is there something in the human body that I missed? Perhaps, is everything just as it should be? Is it perfectly imperfect? A flawed creation, in the image and likeness of an equally flawed God of this world who managed to die. Was the same situation with the God in the previous world? Was the King of Souls like that? A creation darker than the local "almighty" Biblical God.

Did the Biblical God know that he would perish? Was the local God all-seeing and all-knowing like other gods, such as Odin from Norse mythology?

I still need to find this out, among many other things. Knowledge takes time, as its carriers have not yet come to me, even though my persistent threads have long grasped and tied them to my fingers.

I walked through the park, breathing in the fresh spring air. The only advantage of the human body, along with its enormous disadvantages, is sensations. Pain, emotions, tastes, and smells, colors—I felt all of this much better than in the form of a soul unbound to a living body. But at the same time, my senses had become dulled, as if trapped in a closed box.

I couldn't see as far, my powers quickly diminished, some scents made me want to sneeze or cough, and a few tastes made me feel nauseous.

All of this was part of being human. All the downsides, all the upsides, all the decay, and all the beauty converged in this incomprehensible creature that I had neglected and continued to neglect.

But I accept it and continue my agony, waiting for my time to come.

First, I need to understand Hogyoku's plan. Why a human? Comprehend how Kurosaki managed to defeat me. What is his secret that remained hidden from my plans until the very end?

And then... then I will achieve perfection. I will create what I initially aspired to.

My gaze fell upon a two-story wooden building with an ornate signboard, skillfully crafted by a master – my calligraphy teacher from this world. In the previous world, I took calligraphy lessons from General Commander Yamamoto, and similarly, back then, I managed to fulfill several of my plans.

Genryusai was a master of his craft, dedicating centuries to honing his skill. He could infuse his brushstrokes with any concept, term, word, emotion, and even that which doesn't exist anywhere in the world.

In some ways, he achieved his ideal. It's not worth denying that.

"Neo!" The door swung open wide, almost hitting me in the forehead, and a young woman with long wheat-colored hair burst out. She was the master's granddaughter and, by extension, the head of one of the oldest clans – Toro Ando, a calligraphy master. A Kitsune with thousands of years under her belt.

We had met "accidentally." He noticed my work at a competition, and as it turned out, we were already acquainted with his granddaughter. Naturally, he invited me to tea to get to know the kind of person I was.

He liked my appearance. Proper, approved by his granddaughter, possessing a natural talent for calligraphy, and favored by the spirits. It was Toru who became one of the first pillars to protect me in case of anything. He was powerful, and his hidden aura could easily kill me on the spot if he activated it near me.

But he would never do that. Was it difficult to earn such respect from a wise Kitsune who, it seemed, should have a dislike for humans?

No.

Adapting to the ancient creature was easy, illusions didn't work on him for obvious reasons, and he was much stronger than me in this art. He was the one who revealed the "truth" about this world to me, beginning to teach me the local magic.

I already had some skills at that time, but his assistance only made me stronger.

"Mizuki, stop, it's embarrassing," my face turned red, and the girl laughed cheerfully, shaking her head and sticking out her tongue.

She loved me with all her heart, with every fiber of her soul. Just half a year, and I was already not the last intelligent being in her life. Is it a lot or a little? I would say half a year is a whole lifetime. Short and long, like eternity.

Mizuki's golden eyes never left mine.

She wanted to confess to me. Right here, right now. But she was afraid of many things. My rejection, her grandfather's anger, because we were different species, her feelings, which she felt for the first time, and many other silly, in her opinion, factors. She never confessed to me, and at night, she would cry again, hugging her pink pillow and berating herself for her weakness.

"Ah, Neo, just live!" the girl sighed and let go of me. She then did something that only girls can do – she playfully nibbled on her lip. "By the way, how do you like my dress?!"

Mizuki stepped back into the house, allowing me to enter the building, and twirled in place under the dim light of a lamp, showing off a light yellow dress with many folds in the skirt.

"Do you like it, hmm?" The young Kitsune awkwardly swayed her hips, unintentionally trying to capture my attention.

A cat with a fluffy tail, though it didn't stray far from being a cat. Or a fox. It didn't matter whose soul these beings were copied from.

"It suits you very well," I smiled and removed my glasses, starting to clean the lenses with a snowy white handkerchief. It was a routine gesture, something I did when I felt "nervous." "Very... beautiful, ahem."

Mizuki beamed like the sun. Her heart fluttered, and a happy, silly smile of a smitten girl spread across her face.

You don't need to be someone powerful or a god to see these emotions.

Just a few words and a little act of shyness – that's all it takes to make this girl happy. Not too much, not too little, and it's not difficult for me. A couple of words, and I take one more step toward my goals.

When she cries at night, Mizuki will promise herself again, vow that she'll confess next time. And again, it won't work out. It won't last long, just two or three times, and then she'll give up, saying "enough" and "so be it."

And another step will be taken, bringing me closer to my goal.

"Hee-hee-hee, Neo, the heart-eater!" Mizuki sang, skipping over to me, hooking her elbow through mine and revealing her animal ears with two tails, hidden under the illusion until now. She enjoyed how I constantly gazed with "delight" at her animal parts. Without disgust or fear. "Let's go, let's go, the old man is waiting for you!"

"Don't pull, Mizuki, I'll fall," I weakly resisted as she led me into the mansion's main hall.

I stubbornly didn't see her hints or innuendos, her flirting. Sometimes it was even amusing to me.

Or so it seemed to me as a human. I wonder how painful it will be for her to learn the truth about me? To see my lifeless body? To hear my "last words of endless love" whispered into her ear?

It would be equally amusing, but the time hasn't come yet.

I nodded to Mizuki's words and then gently grabbed her waist, pulling her close and making her squeal.

"Be more careful, Mizuki," I pointed to an inconspicuous nail protruding from the floor. "You almost stepped on it."

"Neo..." Her gaze darted between my eyes and the nail, her Kitsune heart pounding like a drum, and her right hand, with the two tails, trembled with excitement. "Th-thank you." She squeezed out, lowering her head, smiling at her own silly thoughts, and pressing her bright animal ears with white tufts of fur against her head.

"As long as you're okay, everything will be fine," I say gently, letting her go and counting silently.

Three.

She stops my hand and looks up at me with big yellow eyes filled with love.

Two.

Mizuki steps closer to me, as if stumbling, but I hold her back.

One.

Our faces are close, just as I planned, and then a tall old man appears, clearing his throat expressively.

"Ahem, ahem, young people, I understand everything, but no-no before the wedding!"

Mizuki immediately jumps away from me, and I look around in confusion, making the man laugh heartily with his booming bass voice.

Needless to say, I had noticed that nail sticking out of the floor a long time ago.

"Ah, Neo, hello! Follow me; I'll show you something interesting, hahaha!"

"Alright, uh, Master," I ruffle my hair and quickly follow him, giving Mizuki an apologetic smile as she drifts in her thoughts.

Kitsune, dragons, angels, fallen angels, the holy church, and one representative of Greek mythology. Demons, reapers, vampires, and the rest of the pantheons with a few unaccounted factors remain. It's difficult to reach them for now.

But this will do for now... for now.

I cast a cold glance at the Master's broad back, concealed by a red t-shirt.

Soon, the pre-prepared gears will start turning. But until then, I can wait. Waiting is no less important a part of the plan. The key is not to let waiting unsettle the soul, or everything might go awry.

And it's not as simple as it may seem.