Perfidiōsus: A Soul King Aizen fanfic

♚ Part 1 :: (Accursed & Crowned)

&& – in another time and another place, one asks: What if?

What if Aizen had become the Soul King? If the choice had been taken from him and he'd been elected to hold the world aloft like some ancestor of Atlas in lieu of the Soul King? What would that life look like? Would he continue to rebel? Would he slowly begin to erode inside?

Well, let us ask 'what if' no longer...

________

In an empty hall God exists alone, his body preserved forever in a crystalline prison... And what does he do with his eternity? Why, he dreams of course. And he seethes. And he schemes, for the Divine is wroth and vengeful with it. His mind alive with thought...

And once more thoughts turned to the 'origin' story: the memories of how this predicament came about. The final battle was still a blur...

One moment struck by Mugetsu, the next detained by Zero Squad. How efficiently they had descended, like vultures upon a corpse, while that insufferable simpering fool, Ichibei, declared this was the perfect moment to take action –– because the new Soul King was vulnerable.

Vaguely he thought he'd heard Ichigo shouting, querying who these people were and what they were doing. Typical. The boy had too much heart and not enough head. To be arguing on behalf of the foe he had just bested, folly... And yet his outburst did earn some precious insight.

"Aizen Sōsuke is part of the Soul King," Ichibei stated, matter-of-factly.

What?

Aizen couldn't move, or see, was rendered mute and possessed no sense of feeling in his body. But he could still hear and think for himself. The things his senses were able to process left him sickened... the very idea that he was some part of the Soul King was more than galling. It was disgusting. Anger washed over his consciousness.

"He represents the Soul King's spirit, perhaps more aptly described as His psyche. Perhaps the former King is showing his dissatisfaction with his lot through the rather intense loathing that Sōsuke holds toward him..."

"What the hell're you talking about?!" Ichigo was as animated as ever, "Are you telling me that all along you were going to let him become the Soul King?! Don't you think that's reckless?! What if he tries to destroy you all!"

"He can be managed," the monk replied calmly, "There are worse things in the world than Aizen Sōsuke, and soon those things will descend upon Soul Society. We needed you to fight him, to incapacitate him. Using Mugetsu was the most effective means of ensuring we could then seal him. Your Zanpakutō's strength was precisely what we needed."

With knowledge came anger; white hot and near-blinding: they had planned this all along, those bastards in Zero Squad. No matter what he did, they would have won ––– if he'd ascended to heaven they would have tricked him into this same position. But as it was, they allowed him to cultivate his own silver bullet... His reiatsu flared up violently and reduced a few of the attendants, who accompanied the grinning monk and his cronies, to dust.

"Now, now, Sōsuke," the monk placed a hand on the the fallen transcendent's shoulder and chuckled heartily, "That's enough, surely you know when you are bested. You should learn to lose gracefully... or at least quietly."

"... Nrrrrg..." the defeated deity's voice scraped against his throat, guttural and ineffective; but it was a sound and that was progress. His jaw set tightly, teeth clenching, as he glared at the bearded buffoon.

"Hmm... you truly are terrifying," the other man mused, cheerfully, as he clapped his hands together into a prayer-like gesture, "To already be rejuvenating to this extent, I thought we had a bit more time to be relaxed but it seems I was wrong," the air became alive with some sort of chant. A rite...

Layer upon layer of incantation fell heavily upon the air and slowly began to affect the God's form; it took him several moments of dazed starring to realise he could see again and that his legs were slowly being encased in some sort of mineral structure. They were crystallising him; doing what they'd done to that blasted cadaver!

"Gggghk!!" with a sharp hiss, Aizen's body lurched forward and was completely trapped in the translucent glass-like prison. His frame was suspended weightlessly, he couldn't move a muscle; the only things he could control were his eyes and even then it was surprisingly difficult.

It felt as though the entire universe was bearing down upon him and remaining conscious was a feat in and of itself. The pressure caused his mind to lurch, almost as if intoxicated. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the redheaded victor, and he hated the look those eyes gave him.

Pity.

Do not pity me, you fool! I am not bested yet! –––

How he wanted to roar those words at his nemesis, and his enemies, but speech was far beyond him. All he could do was glare with his mismatched eyes at the filth before him; at the damned Shinigami and their saviour.

And then came the blank white of oblivion as he passed out...

~ end (of part 1).