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He had a name, once.
He used to be – not like everyone else, never, but alive, yes. He used to be alive, to have a family, and however hard it was – for them to be his family, for him to be theirs – at least back then he had a name.
But that was decades, a few centuries, even, ago.
Today – today the world is exactly the same as back then. Murderous. Dangerous.
Except no one remembers his name – he, especially, doesn't.
He looks behind him, at the people who follow him. The ones he has – somehow – gathered around him – murderers, killers, dangerous, dangerous people, but weren't they all? This is the world they know, and in this world there is no other answer than violence. Most of them didn't chose to be killers, and those that did generally are content enough with purifying hollows instead of killing people.
The world – harsh, dangerous in the dark – doesn't leave much of a choice.
He certainly had none, even back when he was a child – he's always known, he's always seen where the road ends, and there is no other way. Not yet, at least – and what will come next will never be perfect, of course not, but it will, hopefully, be better.
The world so far is a dangerous place. The dead walk amongst the living and some of them feast upon them, then disappear in the shadows – they've come to call them hollows, for they have a hole in the middle of their chest and no feelings to be affected by except hatred and anger. Gods made of people's faith and fears protect the living, but as they are no more than a collection of beliefs made by spiritual power, they also are limited by what their people believe – how many are cruel, simply because humans believe them to be? Doors open for the dead who did the worst conceivable deeds in their time alive, and no one hears from them again – Hell, the other dimension, the one that even him cannot see into.
Then they are them. The Soul King – that is what they started calling him, a few centuries ago, when they forgot his name, and he isn't sure whether or not that is accurate, but it is better than to be called a god – and his followers. Old souls which did not degrade into hollows – he knows why, but how could he explain? No one sees the world like he does, the flows of souls and spiritual powers, the future at the door. They are powerful spirits who'd kept their identity and fashioned their powers into dangerous weapons over the centuries.
They come from all over the world, but over the years most have hidden the memories of who they were and taken a name out of the Soul King's language – born on an island amongst other islands, different from even his kinsmen, but no personless god like so many others.
They felt his strength, and gathered around him, across the lands and seas – for what?
Perhaps for this moment.
They are thirteen, and behind each of them a hundred more. Hyosube Ichibe once called them the Gotei – and what Ichibe names gains a stability of its own, which is why he is the “Monk who Calls the Real Name”.
They are thirteen and one and one again, for two have made divisions that do not work within the rules of the Gotei. Shihoin Katsuro – from over in a land that dips into the sea, his skin darker than most woods – created the Onmitsukido which leads units controlling the movements of the others and keep an eye on the struggle between the gods and the strongers hollows across the world. Minamoto Noriko practices arts she alone created, stabilizing through words the power of her soul, and behind her stand the Kido Corps.
The first to come and seek the Soul King had been a man wrapped in fire and death, who burned hollows in his wake as some would breath. Yamamoto Shigekuni was the first to recognize the Soul King for what he was, and the first to gather a division behind him.
Then came a second, a man from the cold north, who found the two of them while searching for powerful opponents and higher-class hollows. His name became Iba Shinsuke, and the earth broke open when anger came over him.
A third arrived, the lower half of her face hidden under a mask, and her blade was to be used against the gods who strayed and became too much of a danger to the living. No one asked Ise Jun how she had come by such a power even before zanpakuto were stabilized by Ichibe naming them, just as no one asked her what she hid under her mask.
With a fourth leader came the art of healing, not only wounds but souls themselves. Just as dangerous as any other of the captains – if there were to be divisions, then their leaders had to be captains – but able to allow others to go on fighting, Kirinji Tenjiro taught such an art to all his followers and shared his knowledge with Noriko of the Kido Corps and yet another one.
Four divisions then, and the Soul King himself, were found by Hyosube Ichibe and those who followed him, a fifth division to contend with, which leader could use the power in words in ways entirely different from the Kido Corps'. Ichibe came, and named the Soul King, and named shinigami, and named the Gotei, and named kido in all its forms, and around his words their powers became greater.
The sixth to join them was Kuchiki Itsuki, a scarf made by his twice-murdered wife – first killed by a man, then her soul eaten by a hollow – around his neck and scarlet crysanthemums in his wake, as he cut down any guilty of wrongdoings, and flowers of death rose from the blood of his victims.
The seventh captain was perhaps the most unexpected, cursed child of a personless goddess and a human, his body more wolf than man, his fangs sharps and his anger with no equal amongst souls. Komamura Okami was his name, and he fought like a beast yet spoke like a man.
After Komamura came Todo Soma, a deceiptively calm man who brought with him an eighth division made of tricky souls. The hollows he targeted fell to the ground long before their bodies were disposed of, and by his power he held them down there long enough for his people to do the dirty work.
A ninth came from far to the West, his skin almost as dark as Katsuro's but his hair much more coarse, and his arrival was the beginning of a new era. Nimaiya Oetsu was able to make weapons that changed the more one used their spiritual power with it – instead of simply coating their blade with reiatsu or simply using raw power – and as he learned to make those weapons as swords from the Soul King's land, he created zanpakuto – which Ichibe named thus, cementing their roles – and all shinigami received one, turning their various and assorted powers into stronger weapons – and with it came shikai, and with it came bankai and absolute power.
Not long after Oetsu appeared Shiba Hifumi, tenth captain to be recognized so. A woman fond of games and fights, and particularly set against hollows, she welcomed the power offered by a zanpakuto and made it her mission to eradicate any of the wretched souls that came into her sight.
It was Hifumi who first met with the woman who would become the eleventh captain, and their fight was only stopped when the tenth captain fell to the ground, exhausted, and Unohana Yachiru found herself unable to kill her opponent for lack of a powerful enough weapon. Behind her murderers and fighters, only kept in check by both her frightening power and the might of the other captains, but their strength and ferocity was needed and zanpakuto were given to them too.
The twelfth one was first a servant of a personless god who offered her services to the Gotei when Jun slayed her master. Able to turn clothes into armor and scissors into weapons, Shutara Senjumaru made an uniform – resistant, insulated from spiritual power, and easy to move in – for the shinigami, which Ichibe named shihakusho. Only when presented with her own zampakuto did she decide to create her own division.
Finally a last soul came, after a long journey and with hair blond like the sun, followed by many others who would become the thirteenth division. Togakushi Akihito was the name he took for himself, and his strength lied both in the cheers of his audience and the screams of his opponents.
The Soul King looks at these souls behind him, and the souls behind them – he looks at the Gotei, and nearly five centuries have passed since he first met Shigekuni, and the world has not changed except for their presence. In this plane rove both the living and the dead, and he cannot see what goes down in the only other dimension that is Hell. Humans die, and become ghosts. Ghosts either strengthen themselves and become full-rounded souls yet again, or turn into hollows which the first must hunt down. Gods and goddesses are created out of human faith, and both defend and abuse their believers. Dead souls – shinigami, and the few who don't remain ghosts but do not join – and slain hollows return to the pool of souls, asleep until their reincarnation into new human beings.
The world does not change.
The world remains the same, but the Soul King – he knows what to do to change it. It would not be perfect, should he succeed, but it might – it might be better.
Five centuries since his birth – different from his kin, neither human nor a god – and the Soul King knows it is time. He can change the world, and the Gotei and the Onmitsukido and the Kido Corps will be here to regulate what he cannot change. They will be balancers, because he is no omnipotent god, and what he will make of it will not be peaceful – but it will be manageable.
He closes his eyes as he speaks to his followers. If they do not share his belief, they don't voice their disbelief. They know, too, that it is no belief. He is a being who can see what's ahead – and if he doesn't tell them everything, it is because he knows he is no omnipotent god, because he knows there are events in the future they would wish to avoid. Because he knows the cost to such a wish.
Because it is a wish that should not be granted.
Because it is a wish he cannot grant.
He closes his eyes, and tells them how he will reshape this dimension into three – he will not touch Hell, for he cannot, for it is a dimension over which he has no power.
The first dimension will be the Living World, where humans will remain and live their life, and where ghosts will wait to be freed. Ghosts will not be left to their own devices – to turn into hollows or to strengthen themselves – for he had Noriko and Oetsu find a way to help them along into becoming full souls once again, which Ichibe named konso, the soul burial. To prevent the creation of whimsical gods and the presence of the strongest hollows, reishi will be scarce in the Living World.
The second dimension will be Soul Society, made entirely of reishi instead of matter. The Soul King and all the full souls will live there, until time comes to die again and await reincarnation into new souls, either in the Living World, or, more rarely, right back into Soul Society. Both an afterlife for those who had been human but were no more, and a life of itself in which a soul could die again. A city will stand in its center – which Ichibe then names Seireitei – from which to organize the flows of souls.
The third dimension will be more of a necessary evil – not a dimension of life like the two others, it will house hollows far away from their potential victims. Though the soulless beasts would still be able to travel to both the Living World and Soul Society, the existence of Hueco Mondo will allow them to hunt each other more often than other souls. Devoid of true life – for hollows are, like ghosts, a transitionary state of the soul rather than a true lifeform – this dimension will be in between the two others.
It will have a cost, he says. One arm of his, taken off – Mimihagi-sama, they will one day call it, uncertain of its nature, believing back to the gods which once were.
He opens his eyes, and all are awaiting for what comes next.
There is only only thing left to say.
He may be the Soul King, but he will not be the king of Soul Society. He will not order them. He will not stand above them. He will teach them until they can act as balancers – until they can learn on their own – and he will be there, an anchor for the three dimensions to exist as they will, but he will not govern.
He does not tell them of the son he will one day have. He does not tell them of the price he will one day pay. He does not tell them of the seal to keep him as the anchor they will one day need.
They will know, one day. They will know, because they will live it, and they will make the choices he can already see coming.
If his followers can guess that he isn't telling them everything, they do not question him.
It is time to reshape the world.
He closes his eyes.
He can see ahead, and he knows – the Soul King is no individual. He shall remain – broken, sealed, alone – so that the world can go on as it is. It isn't perfect – of course not – but in so many ways, it is much better than what was before. At least, now, there is a chance not to fear the dark.
He had a name, once.