Yo!

  I'm back with the next chapter of Transcendent Fme.

  I'm thinking of making this story a regur story as in weekly updates, let me know what you feel about that.

  Without further ado, let's get started.

  Enjoy the chapter.

  Transcendent Fme

  Chapter 2

  The Fragile Fme

  4th Division, Recovery Ward

  Viktor turned to Unohana, his expression grave. "Captain, what precautions would you recommend for this procedure?"

  Unohana's eternal smile took on a thoughtful edge. "We should conduct this in a controlled environment. The Fourth Division's specialized treatment room would be ideal. I would need to monitor Captain Ukitake's spiritual pressure constantly, and we may need to have Kidō Corps members on standby in case of any unexpected reactions."

  Ukitake coughed again, more violently this time. As he regained his composure, he looked at Viktor with a mix of hope and resignation. "Sensei, if you believe this is the best course of action... I am willing to try."

  Viktor nodded solemnly. "Prepare the treatment room, Captain Unohana. We will proceed as soon as possible." He turned to address the ryoka. "Your assistance in this matter will not be forgotten. Soul Society owes you a debt of gratitude."

  As the room buzzed with preparations, Viktor felt the weight of this decision.

  "A bold move," the System's voice echoed in his mind. "Let's see if it pays off."

  4th Division, Treatment Room

  The specialized treatment room hummed with concentrated spiritual energy. Unohana had arranged a complex array of monitoring kidō, their pale blue light casting ethereal shadows across the walls. Ukitake y on the central treatment ptform, his white haori removed, while Orihime stood nervously at his side.

  As they prepared to begin, the door opened again, and Sasakibe entered quietly, carrying a long, wrapped item with the care of someone handling something precious. Viktor's sharp eyes caught the movement, and he gave his lieutenant a brief, acknowledging nod before shifting his focus back to the scene before him. He stood near the doorway, maintaining Yamamoto's commanding presence while watching with a mixture of curiosity and fascination as the process unfolded.

  Unohana pced a gentle hand on Orihime's shoulder, her serene expression focused and calm. "Remember," she instructed softly, her voice carrying both reassurance and gravity, "start slowly. We need to understand how your power interacts with his condition before attempting a full rejection."

  "Sōten Kisshun," Orihime called softly, her hairpins glowing as the familiar orange shield materialized above Ukitake's chest. The room's atmosphere shifted immediately, her unique spiritual pressure interacting with the ancient captain's in ways that made the monitoring kidō flicker and pulse.

  Unohana observed the readings intently, her hand never leaving Orihime's shoulder. "Fascinating," she murmured, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tracked the interaction. "The rejection field is attempting to identify the original point of divergence in his spiritual makeup."

  The orange shield pulsed gently as Orihime's power began its work. Beneath the shield, Ukitake's spiritual pressure started to shift and ripple, like waves disturbing a still pond. His white hair seemed to glow faintly as the rejection field interacted with the ancient spiritual modification that had saved his life as a child.

  "The readings are extraordinary," Unohana remarked, her other hand moving through precise diagnostic kidō gestures. "The rejection field appears to be identifying multiple yers of spiritual disruption. There are centuries of accumuted spiritual scarring and ongoing strain on his soul's core structure."

  Viktor watched as tendrils of Orihime's power began to weave through Ukitake's spiritual pressure like golden threads through ancient fabric. With his growing senses, he could feel how the captain's reiatsu was responding—first resisting, then gradually accepting the gentle intrusion.

  Ukitake's breathing, normally bored, began to even out. Color slowly returned to his pale features as Orihime's power worked deeper, addressing not just the symptoms but the fundamental imbance in his soul's structure.

  "The rejection field is creating a temporal bubble," Unohana noted, her tone sharpening with interest as she tracked the data. "It's not simply healing the damage—it's attempting to reconstruct his spiritual core."

  Beads of sweat formed on Orihime's brow as she maintained her concentration, her power pushing against centuries of accumuted spiritual damage. The orange shield pulsed brighter, its glow reflecting off the monitoring kidō arrays that surrounded them.

  "There!," Unohana said, her voice lowering as she leaned slightly forward. Her sharp gaze locked on the spiritual energies shifting within the shield. "The rejection field is reaching the deepest yer of the affliction."

  The orange shield surrounding Ukitake began to pulse with increasing intensity. Within its boundaries, complex patterns of spiritual energy became visible—centuries of accumuted damage slowly being unmade. Ukitake's own reiatsu, normally fluctuating and strained, started to stabilize into a smooth, continuous flow.

  "Captain," Orihime's voice was tight with concentration, "I can feel where the original... change happened. It's like a knot in the fabric of his soul."

  "Proceed carefully, Inoue-san," Unohana said, her calm demeanor unwavering as her hand remained on Orihime's shoulder. "We must preserve the beneficial aspects while addressing the strain."

  Ukitake's breathing suddenly hitched, then smoothed out completely. His spiritual pressure, for the first time in centuries, flowed without interruption or strain. His eyes widened in surprise as he took his first truly easy breath in living memory.

  "Remarkable," Unohana remarked, her expression carrying genuine amazement as her diagnostic kidō revealed complex patterns of spiritual restoration. "The rejection field has managed to stabilize the interface between Ukitake's spiritual pressure and the accumuted damage."

  The orange shield flickered one final time before slowly dissipating. Orihime swayed slightly, exhausted from the intense concentration required. Unohana allowed Chad to move quickly and steady Orihime, his rge hands supporting her slight frame. Then, Unohana stepped forward, her hands dancing through a final series of diagnostic kidō.

  "The integration is... perfect," she announced, her calm voice tinged with wonder. "The strain on your spiritual core has been completely neutralized, Captain Ukitake."

  Ukitake sat up slowly, wonder evident on his face as he took several deep breaths. His spiritual pressure, usually fluctuating and constrained, now flowed smoothly and powerfully through the room. "This feeling..." he whispered, "I had almost forgotten what it was like."

  Viktor observed the scene with both Yamamoto's ancient wisdom and an actor's appreciation for pivotal moments. The success of this treatment would have far reaching implications for Soul Society's future.

  "Rest now, both of you," Unohana instructed, her tone brooking no argument. "Captain Ukitake, I want you under observation for the rest of the day. Inoue-san, you've accomplished something unprecedented today."

  Satisfied that the newly healed captain and the young healer were stable, Unohana began monitoring their recovery, ensuring no residual complications arose. As the room settled into a quiet hum of recovery, the rest of the group moved back to the Fourth Division's recovery ward, the soft sound of their footsteps echoing in the hall. Viktor allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction.

  The soft sound of approaching footsteps drew Viktor's attention as Sasakibe approached him with the wrapped Asauchi with formal precision. The timing was perfect—while one experiment concluded, another could begin.

  "Kurosaki Ichigo," Viktor spoke, his voice carrying Yamamoto's gravelly authority. "Step forward."

  The orange-haired teenager looked up from his position near the wall, surprise evident on his face. His spiritual pressure, wild and untamed even in his weakened state, flickered with curiosity.

  "Your powers, while impressive, remain unstable," Viktor stated, as Sasakibe stepped forward with the wrapped Asauchi. "You achieved Bankai through... unconventional means. This has left gaps in your fundamental understanding of Shinigami arts."

  Ichigo's brow furrowed, his spiritual pressure flickering with a mix of confusion and defiance. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means," Viktor continued, nodding to Sasakibe to present the Asauchi, "that you require proper training. This Asauchi will help you understand the true nature of your powers."

  Viktor observed how Ichigo's spiritual pressure reacted to the bnk zanpakutō's presence—wild and untamed, yet somehow resonating with the weapon. 'The boy's connection to his current zanpakutō was unusual, born of desperate circumstances rather than proper development.'

  "An Asauchi?" Uryu spoke up from his position near the wall, adjusting his gsses. "The bnk sword that Shinigami use to develop their zanpakutō?"

  "Indeed," Viktor confirmed unsurprised, allowing a hint of approval at the Quincy's knowledge. "Every proper Shinigami begins their journey with an Asauchi. Your current path, Kurosaki Ichigo, while effective, has left you with an incomplete foundation."

  Ichigo stared at the wrapped Asauchi with a mix of confusion and wariness. "But I already have Zangetsu. Why would I need another zanpakutō?"

  "This is not about repcing your current power," Viktor expined, his voice carrying Yamamoto's ancient wisdom. "It is about understanding its true nature. Your spiritual pressure is vast but unfocused, like a river without banks."

  As Ichigo's hesitation lingered, Viktor decided to shift tactics. "Draw your zanpakutō," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. Ichigo hesitated for a moment, then reached for Zangetsu and pulled the massive bde free with a familiar motion.

  The moment the bde cleared its sheath, Viktor stepped forward. Faster than Ichigo could react, he seized Zangetsu's hilt, wrenching the weapon from the younger Shinigami's grasp. The sheer speed of the motion left Ichigo stunned, his hand frozen mid-air where the sword had been moments before.

  "Hey!" Ichigo started, his spiritual pressure fring with indignation. "What are you—"

  Before he could finish, Viktor gripped the bde with both hands and, with what seemed like casual effort, broke Zangetsu cleanly in two. A loud snap echoed through the room as the bde fractured into two jagged halves. Pieces of the broken zanpakutō cttered to the ground, gleaming dully under the faint light of the recovery ward.

  Ichigo's mouth fell open in shock, disbelief radiating from him. "You—! You broke—!"

  Viktor silenced him with a gre that carried Yamamoto's immense authority. Holding the two halves of the broken sword, he lifted them slightly. "This is what remains of a power forged through desperation and instinct," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "It is unstable, incomplete, and easily undone by one who knows its weaknesses."

  Without further warning, Viktor released —all 15% of the power he could of the raging inferno of Ryuujin Jakka. The air in the room turned blisteringly hot in an instant, and the upper part of the broken bde ignited in a torrent of fmes. The spiritual energy surged outward, sending the broken pieces on the ground skidding across the floor before smming into the far wall with enough force to crack the surface.

  Everyone in the room staggered under the sudden weight of Viktor's spiritual pressure. Uryu's gsses slipped slightly as he adjusted his stance, his Quincy senses struggling to process the magnitude of the power unleashed. Even Chad, ever stoic, pnted his feet firmly as he braced against the overwhelming heat.

  Ichigo, standing closest, felt the full brunt of the force. His hands clenched into fists as he struggled to maintain his footing, sweat dripping from his brow. Zangetsu's fragmented halves still pulsed faintly, the broken pieces reacting to the immense reiatsu emanating from Viktor.

  "This," Viktor said, his voice cutting through the oppressive atmosphere, "is the difference between raw power and mastery. A bde forged without proper understanding will break when it is tested. You may have Zangetsu's name, but you do not truly know him. That ignorance will be your downfall if it is not corrected."

  He lowered the broken halves, allowing the fmes to dissipate as the room cooled slightly. Viktor's intense gaze bore into Ichigo as he added, "The Asauchi is not a repcement for your bde. It is a tool for understanding. A bridge to help you forge a true connection with your power."

  Ichigo's breath came in ragged gasps, his spiritual pressure still swirling chaotically in response to Viktor's overwhelming dispy. The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the room thick as smoke.

  The oppressive heat lingered, the air shimmering with residual energy from Viktor's controlled outburst. In his left hand, the remaining fragment of Zangetsu began to react. Instead of melting into liquid metal as one might expect, the bde flickered with a faint glow before dissolving into particles of reishi, dispersing like motes of light into the surrounding air. Viktor's sharp eyes tracked the dispersal, his expression unreadable. As the st motes faded, the faintest sound of metal brushing against cloth went unnoticed by all but Viktor, who slid a small piece of the broken bde into his sleeve with subtle precision.

  Lowering his hand, Viktor gestured toward the particles still fading into the ether. "Look closely," he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the heavy silence. "This is the essence of your zanpakutō—spiritual energy given form. Without understanding, without foundation, this is all it will ever be. Ephemeral. Incomplete."

  Ichigo stared at the dissipating reishi, confusion and frustration warring on his face. His spiritual pressure fred slightly, reacting to what he perceived as an insult, but before he could speak, Uryu stepped forward, adjusting his gsses with a thoughtful expression.

  "I see," Uryu said, his analytical tone calm and firm. He gestured toward the fading particles. "Kurosaki, what he's showing you is fundamental to the nature of zanpakutō and, by extension, all spiritual constructs. Unlike Quincy weapons, which are forged entirely of reishi manipution, Shinigami zanpakutō are both physical and spiritual entities. But when improperly formed, as yours clearly was, the bance between these elements becomes unstable."

  Ichigo frowned, gncing between Uryu and Viktor. "What does that mean? Zangetsu's been with me this whole time. I've fought with him, trained with him—"

  "And you've succeeded," Uryu interjected, his tone sharpening. "But through sheer force of will, not proper understanding. Zangetsu is incomplete because you never forged him the way Shinigami are supposed to. He was born out of your desperation, not a deliberate connection with an Asauchi."

  Uryu turned toward Viktor, his analytical gaze flicking briefly to the faint shimmer of reishi still clinging to the older man's hand. "This," he gestured toward the Asauchi in Sasakibe's hands, "is what every Shinigami starts with. It's a bnk canvas, a foundation that allows the wielder's spiritual energy to imprint upon it, forming a true zanpakutō. You skipped this step entirely, Kurosaki, and it's why your connection to Zangetsu is incomplete."

  Ichigo's fists tightened, his knuckles whitening. He gnced back at Viktor, frustration evident. "So what am I supposed to do now?"

  "The solution is simple, if not easy," Uryu replied, sighing as he stepped forward and carefully took the Asauchi from Sasakibe's hands. Unlike Ichigo, whose reiatsu often leaked uncontrolbly, Uryu's control was impeccable. His movements were precise, ensuring none of his spiritual pressure imprinted upon the bnk bde.

  "Take this," Uryu said, offering the Asauchi to Ichigo. His tone carried both a challenge and a note of encouragement. "This is your opportunity to form a proper connection with Zangetsu. To rebuild your foundation the way it should have been done from the start."

  Ichigo hesitated, his gaze lingering on the bnk bde. The Asauchi pulsed faintly in response to his proximity, its resonance muted but present. Slowly, he reached out and took the bde, the unfamiliar weight settling into his hand.

  The moment his fingers wrapped around it, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The chaotic, uncontrolled reiatsu that had been leaking from Ichigo in waves was suddenly drawn into the Asauchi. It flowed like a rushing river, every strand of spiritual energy converging on the bde with startling precision. The once bnk and unadorned weapon began to change before their eyes.

  Intricate patterns began to materialize along the bde's previously featureless surface, shimmering as if etched by an unseen hand. The design resembled flowing rivers of energy, carving their way across the steel like living veins of reiatsu. These patterns seemed to pulse faintly with a deep, orange hue, echoing Ichigo's unique spiritual signature. The lines carried an organic quality, intertwining and overpping in a way that evoked both strength and fluidity.

  The sheath, once a pin and unadorned housing, underwent a stunning transformation. Its surface darkened to a deep obsidian bck, gleaming with a polished finish that reflected the light faintly. Along its length, faint silver engravings appeared, delicate yet sharp, forming a geometric tticework that banced the chaotic energy of the bde itself. The end cap of the sheath was inid with a single glowing emblem resembling a rising sun—a subtle nod to Ichigo's fiery determination.

  The hilt wrapped itself in a textured, dark grip that radiated practicality and elegance. Made from a material resembling hardened leather but with a metallic sheen, it provided a secure hold while exuding a sense of refinement. The dark wrapping was interwoven with thin, crimson threads, barely visible but unmistakably present, giving the hilt a yered depth that reflected Ichigo's multifaceted nature.

  The guard, which had been featureless before, reshaped itself into an intricate circur design. It resembled a sunburst, with jagged rays extending outward in symmetrical precision. At its center, a faint glow pulsed, suggesting a core of immense energy. The design was a perfect bance between simplicity and power—a visual representation of Ichigo's own potential.

  The bde itself underwent the most striking change. Its edge gleamed with a brilliance that seemed almost ethereal, as though it were made of condensed light rather than metal. The previously pin steel was now ced with a faint, shimmering gradient, shifting subtly between silver and a deep orange-red as it caught the light. The bde's spine was slightly thicker, adding a sense of durability, while its edge was honed to a razor-like sharpness, exuding an aura of lethal precision.

  Overall, the Asauchi no longer bore any trace of its once bnk nature. It had become a weapon uniquely suited to its wielder—radiating raw power and untamed potential, yet shaped with the grace and control of something far greater. The bance of its design mirrored Ichigo's journey: a chaotic force learning to channel itself with purpose.

  As this transformation unfolded, Rukia and Sado, silent spectators, reacted instinctively to the oppressive spiritual weight in the room. Rukia gulped audibly, her first time truly experiencing Yamamoto's spiritual pressure. The heat seemed to press against her like a tangible force. Sado, ever protective, moved slightly in front of her, shielding her from the residual heat and the reverberations of reiatsu. If anyone had noticed the small fragment of Ichigo's bde that had been flung across the room during Viktor's earlier dispy, they would have seen the pieces picked up by a hand, disappearing unnoticed.

  Ichigo's eyes widened as he felt the shift in the sword, but before he could fully process it, the recovery ward blurred around him. The towering skyscrapers of his inner world repced it, stretching into an infinite horizon beneath a blue sky. The familiar howl of the wind greeted him.

  Ahead of him stood two figures—the Old Man and the Hollow. Zangetsu's weathered visage met Ichigo's gaze calmly, his hands folded behind his back. Beside him, the Hollow loomed, eerily still, its yellow eyes piercing.

  For a long moment, the three of them stood in silence. The only sound was the wind, its whispers faint but insistent. Ichigo felt no hostility, only a quiet expectation.

  Finally, Zangetsu spoke, his voice deep and steady, carrying the weight of timeless wisdom. "You've taken your first step, Ichigo. The bde you now hold... it is not what you knew before. It is the start of something greater. But only if you are willing to face the truths you've long avoided."

  Ichigo opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his vision blurred for a moment. A wave of calm swept through him as, for the first time, he felt the absence of spiritual energy leakage. His reiatsu, which had always poured out of him like an untamed river, now flowed smoothly and evenly, contained within his spiritual core. The sensation was alien—startling, yet comforting. It was as though a crushing weight he hadn't realized he was carrying had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders.

  Ichigo exhaled slowly, his body instinctively adjusting to the newfound bance. He flexed his fingers around the Asauchi, noting how the bde felt lighter in his hand, almost like an extension of himself. For the first time, there was no chaotic push and pull between his power and his weapon; everything felt aligned, purposeful.

  The inner world dissolved from his mind's eye, and the recovery ward came back into focus. The room was heavy with silence, the weight of what had just transpired palpable in the air. Viktor's gaze lingered on Ichigo's form, observing the boy's reiatsu with a keen eye. The transformation was unmistakable: his energy no longer shed out uncontrolbly but flowed with the quiet strength of a tempered fme.

  "You feel it now," Viktor said, his voice low but carrying Yamamoto's commanding presence. "What it means to be in control. Hold onto that sensation, Kurosaki Ichigo. It will be the foundation upon which your strength is built."

  Ichigo nodded slowly, his expression one of awe and quiet determination. He didn't have the words to describe what he was feeling—relief, crity, and perhaps, for the first time, true confidence.

  Viktor gestured to Sasakibe, who stepped forward with measured grace. From within his immacute robes, Sasakibe produced a wooden box and presented it with the poise of a seasoned officer. With deliberate precision, he opened the box, revealing a wooden badge carved with a distinctive skull symbol.

  "The Substitute Shinigami Combat Pass," Viktor announced, his deep voice filling the room with authority. "This officially recognizes your position and grants you the right to perform Shinigami duties in the World of the Living."

  Ichigo blinked, his brows furrowing in surprise. "Official recognition? You mean…"

  "You have earned this," Viktor stated firmly, stepping closer. His presence seemed to dominate the room, each word deliberate and resonant. "Your actions in defense of both the human world and Soul Society merit formal acknowledgment. This badge will also aid you in separating from your physical body when necessary."

  As Viktor spoke, the reactions of those in the room didn't go unnoticed. Rukia's small, proud smile reflected her recognition of Ichigo's accomplishments. Sado stood firm, his nod conveying silent approval, while Uryu's calcuting gaze held a spark of both intrigue and skepticism. Each expression carried the weight of acknowledgment—not just for Ichigo's efforts but for the shifting tides within Soul Society's approach to the human world.

  Viktor extended a hand toward Ichigo, gesturing toward both the Asauchi and the badge Sasakibe had presented. "Take them," he commanded. "Train with the Asauchi. Learn to wield it as an extension of yourself. Understand the badge's purpose. The war ahead will demand everything you can master."

  Ichigo accepted the badge with his free hand, turning it over in his palm. The carved skull was cold and smooth against his skin, a tangible reminder of his new responsibilities. The Asauchi, now no longer bnk, pulsed faintly in his other hand, resonating with his spiritual energy in a way that felt natural yet unfamiliar.

  "The badge serves another purpose," Viktor continued, his tone yered with meaning. "It allows Soul Society to monitor spiritual activity in your area and respond should you require assistance. In times of crisis, this connection could prove vital."

  "Think of it as a direct line to Soul Society," Viktor eborated, the gravel in Yamamoto's voice carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore. "Should significant threats emerge in Karakura Town, we will know. And we will come."

  Ichigo nodded again, his grip tightening around both the badge and the Asauchi. The mountain that had once weighed on his shoulders felt lighter now, repced with a crity he hadn't thought possible.

  Rukia's expression flickered—understanding blooming across her face. She knew the implications of such monitoring but held her tongue, trusting Ichigo to navigate the waters himself. Uryu's sharp gaze narrowed, his Quincy instincts undoubtedly bristling at the mere idea of Soul Society's oversight. Yet, he remained silent, his analytical mind carefully weighing the potential consequences.

  "Keep it with you at all times," Viktor concluded, his voice brooking no argument. "In the coming conflict, swift communication and response will be essential."

  As Viktor watched Ichigo examine the badge, his mind wandered through Yamamoto's vast memories, unearthing fragmented possibilities of what could be. A vision of a war torn Soul Society fshed briefly—its fmes stoked by carelessness and mistrust.

  'Abandonment breeds resentment,' Viktor mused internally, his expression an unwavering mask of authority. 'We cannot afford to lose powerful allies due to shortsightedness.'

  His gaze swept the room, lingering briefly on each ryoka. 'This is more than a tool; it is a bond. A bond forged in fire.'

  "Remember, Kurosaki Ichigo," Viktor intoned, his words deliberate and final, "this badge represents a permanent alliance, not a temporary arrangement. Soul Society does not grant such recognition lightly, nor do we withdraw it easily."

  The atmosphere shifted at those words, subtle yet undeniable. Rukia's eyes widened fractionally, her gaze darting between Ichigo and Viktor as if trying to confirm what she had just heard. Hope mingled with surprise in her expression.

  'A permanent alliance between a human and Soul Society…' Uryu thought, edged with wary intrigue. 'That's quite the shift in policy.'

  Chad stood like an unmoving pilr, his reiatsu humming faint approval.

  Ichigo, of course, remained blissfully straightforward. "Eh?" He blinked, looking mildly perplexed. "Was there ever a question about that? I mean, I wasn't pnning on stopping just because some battle ended."

  Viktor allowed the faintest curl of dry humor to touch his lips, Yamamoto's gravelly tone tinged with uncharacteristic lightness. "Indeed not," he replied. "Which is why we are formalizing this arrangement now, rather than leaving such matters to chance and circumstance."

  'The fmes of revolution have been lit,' Viktor thought to himself, his expression calm and unreadable. 'Now, we must ensure they burn with purpose.'

  Turning his attention toward the shadows in the corner of the room, Viktor's eyes narrowed. "Yoruichi," he called, his voice cutting through the air like steel. "You will take them to the Shin'ō Academy. Ensure they are trained in the foundations of their respective fields. They are to remain there for the next week. Let Rukia recover fully, and when she is ready, she will report back to her captain and resume her duties."

  From the shadows, Yoruichi's voice carried a pyful lilt. "Understood, Sōtaichō." Her silhouette moved gracefully into the light, and with a shimmer, her feline form transformed into her human one. She straightened with a smirk, her sharp golden eyes gleaming.

  "Leave it to me," she said with confidence, her tone light but her posture radiating readiness.

  Viktor gave her a curt nod before turning on his heel. Sasakibe followed silently, his presence as steady and formal as ever. As they left the room, Viktor's mind remained focused on the tasks ahead—until he stepped into the hallway and came face to face with Unohana.

  Her serene gaze met his, her posture calm but unmistakably deliberate. "Sōtaichō," she said softly, her tone unreadable yet den with purpose. "If I might have a moment of your time?"

  Viktor stopped, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded her. The room behind them faded into the background as the weight of Unohana's presence filled the space. There was a subtle shift in the air, a lingering echo of the past that spoke to Viktor on an instinctive level. He felt, more than saw, the slight flick of her hand toward Sasakibe—a silent signal for privacy. Viktor understood the significance of the gesture. Unohana rarely sought private conversations unless the matter was of considerable importance.

  Sasakibe inclined his head in quiet acknowledgement and stepped away without a word, granting them the solitude Unohana had requested.

  Unohana waited for the lieutenant's presence to recede before stepping closer. Her expression, though pcid as ever, carried a glint of something sharper, something ancient. Viktor felt a flicker of something buried deep in Yamamoto's memories—an echo of the original Gotei 13, the bloodstained era of its founding, when warriors were forged in carnage, and survival demanded ruthless pragmatism.

  "Sōtaichō," she began, her voice soft but incisive, her tone carrying a sharpness that belied her serene demeanor. "You've changed."

  The statement lingered in the air, weighted with deliberate intent. Her spiritual pressure brushed against his—not aggressively, but with the precise touch of a master surgeon. It was probing, deliberate, calcuted test. Viktor felt the pressure and recognized it for what it was: an assessment, not of power, but of intent.

  "Change was necessary," Viktor replied evenly, his tone measured and steeped in Yamamoto's gravelly authority. "Tradition has preserved us for millennia, but it has also made us predictable. That predictability has become a liability."

  Unohana's faint, eternal smile remained in pce, but Viktor saw the subtle narrowing of her eyes. "Those words sound more like the Gotei 13 of its inception," she remarked, her voice deceptively light. "Forged in chaos, wielding strength without restraint. Tell me, Sōtaichō, is that your intent? To return us to what we were?"

  Viktor allowed a faint ripple of his immense spiritual pressure to roll outward—not overwhelming, but firm, commanding attention. He studied her closely, sensing the undertone of her words. 'She's testing me,' he realized. 'She wants to see whether this 'new' Yamamoto has the same resolve as the old one or something entirely different.'

  "No," he said finally, his voice deliberate. "The old ways were born from necessity. We were warlords imposing order on chaos. But times have changed. Our principles remain vital, but our methods must evolve. If they don't, we will crumble under the weight of our own stagnation."

  Unohana's expression shifted subtly, her eyes sharpening as she regarded him. "And yet," she said slowly, "your resolve feels the same. The Gotei 13 of old may have faded, but its echoes linger in you—something I haven't felt in centuries. You speak of evolution, but I wonder, Sōtaichō, if the core of that old ruthlessness has truly gone."

  Viktor turned slightly, his gaze drifting toward the rge window overlooking the Seireitei. The city sprawled below, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. Its towering structures seemed to reflect both the weight of history and the potential for change. Yamamoto's memories surged to the forefront of Viktor's mind, tethering him to the city's legacy and the unrelenting burden of protecting it.

  "The core remains," Viktor admitted, his voice low and resonant. "Because it must. We face enemies now who shatter our patterns, who exploit our traditions as weaknesses. If we are not prepared to adapt while holding fast to our core principles, Soul Society will fall."

  Unohana's spiritual pressure shifted, brushing against his in subtle acknowledgment. Her sharp eyes gleamed, a flicker of approval hidden beneath the calm surface. "Adaptation," she mused. "A lesson even warriors as old as us can still learn. But I suspect your thoughts go beyond adaptation, Sōtaichō."

  At this, Unohana held his gaze for a long moment, the light from the window catching the edges of her serene expression. Behind her calm demeanor, Viktor could feel the calcuting presence of Yachiru Unohana—the warrior who had carved her name into the annals of history with blood and steel.

  "And these changes," she said at st, her tone deceptively light, "they extend beyond healing, don't they? You are considering more than just Jushiro's recovery."

  Viktor exhaled quietly, the sound more akin to gravel shifting. "This form," he admitted, flexing Yamamoto's scarred hand meaningfully, "it carries limitations. Age... it clouds boldness with caution, action with hesitation."

  Unohana's gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing slightly in understanding.

  "Inoue's power," he continued, "made me wonder. Illness, time, decay… are they immutable? Or can they, too, be rejected?"

  Her eyes widened—just a fraction, but Viktor noticed. For Unohana, that was as btant as a gasp. "You tested her abilities during Jushiro's treatment," she said, more a statement than a question.

  Viktor inclined his head in a slow, deliberate nod. "This body influences thought. Encourages rest when we require movement. Prudence when the situation demands aggression. We cannot face a transcendent threat weighed down by our own limitations."

  Unohana's eternal smile deepened faintly, though there was no mistaking the respect in her tone. "An old warrior, seeking not just to endure, but to evolve."

  Silence stretched again, more comfortable this time. At st, Unohana's voice broke it, carrying newfound resolve. "Leave the preparations to me, Genryūsai-dono. I will ensure the girl's powers are explored systematically and discreetly. Jushiro's case will serve as our foundation."

  With a final, graceful bow—perfectly measured yet subtly admonishing—Unohana turned to leave, her white haori trailing behind her like a ripple of calm certainty. Her spiritual pressure, no longer concealed, hummed with purpose.

  Viktor watched her departure in silence, his gaze lingering as her form disappeared into the distance. Beneath the stoic mask of Yamamoto's features, he allowed himself a faint, private smile.

  'Sometimes,' he mused internally, 'the best strategy is knowing when to let others take the lead.'

  And Cut!

  That's it for this chapter folks.

  AN:

  Phew, quite a chapter. I had to think about every small detail while writing this as I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. I gave quite many clues on what is gonna happen in next chapter and will give you a cookie if you are right ;).

  I know it is quite a big divergence and maybe quite a bold move by Viktor, but I don't think it is right for Soul Society to stick rigidly to tradition when they are clearly stagnated and well aware that Aizen knows all their weaknesses and how to deal with Gotei13. And, we were NOT given any clear info on Ukitake's illness till season 3 of TYBW (which is airing right now). So I assumed that no one knew about Mimihagi (maybe Shunsui knows). But yeah the treatment is successful and Ukitake is cured now. Yeah for that. Let's see how a strong Jushiro can influence the chapter.

  As always, let me know in your reviews and do share your feedback and suggestions!

  I'm very delighted to share that you can now read 14 early chapters on my patron. My user name is same BckInfinity1289 on patron website.

  Note: They are early access only, they will be eventually released here as well.

  Also, if you want discuss about the story or the ideas, you can join my discord server. I go by Henry there, give me a ping to say hi.

  link: discord. gg / SPsSwAcq4b

  Hope to see you there!

  Thank you for reading.

  Good Day!

  Bck Infinity 1289,

  Ja Ne.