Post by Shun Minamoto on Jan 2, 2017 20:04:06 GMT -5
“So, you’re not Shun Minamoto?” The young woman asked as she struggled to wrap her mind around the idea.
“Not the one you know, no,” Shun answered, unhappy to have to give her that kind of news.
“But one from a different universe?” She repeated his explanation, still baffled by the idea.
“It’s hard to believe, I realize; yet here I am. You said yourself, I’m far more powerful than the man you knew.”
Shun found himself sitting in a wooden chair in some sort of dining hall. Around them were countless other Shinigami, some sitting, some standing, listening to Shun answer the questions of the Officers and leaders of this group of Shinigami. The building they were in was a fortress of Sekkseki, brought in numerous shipments from the Soul Society, to build this base of operations. And where was this located, of all places?
Hueco Mundo, in the Quartz Forest, with an army of Menos to separate them from any would-be invaders.
The purpose, as had been explained to him, was to provide a meager home for the hundreds of Shinigami that were part of The Resistance, as they called themselves. From what Shun had been able to glean, and he didn’t know the details yet, there had been a coup d’état in Seireitei. A large faction of Shinigami, fed up with the constant interference of humans in the spiritual affairs of humanity, rose up and overthrew the current leadership.
As Shun imagined, the result of this? A total eradication of all Humans displaying any sort of spiritual power or awareness. If you could control spiritual energy, they killed you. If you could see the dead, they killed you. If you so much as breathed a spiritual particle in such a way that made it look like you were in control? They killed you.
Quincy, Fullbringer, any other form of Human, it didn’t matter to them. Humans were sheep to be shepherded, they said, and they didn’t need any with teeth.
But the Resistance had other ideas. After all, powers or not, were they not still humans? Were they not still to be protected? Certainly, their powers would bring them nothing but unhappiness in a world that’s not meant to house such things. But that didn’t mean the Seireitei needed to get involved, except in the most extreme of cases.
Shun could understand this. It had, by and large, been his own stance.
“Why are you here, then?” A young man to his side spoke up, clearly nervous to ask.
Shun smiled at him, “I’m trying to get home.”
“How long have you been away?” The same man asked again, emboldened by Shun’s friendliness.
“Seventy-three years and three, maybe four months. I’ve lost track of the exact number of days,” he answered. Try as he might, bouts of unconsciousness made it impossible for him to know the exact amount of time. Some nights, it was all he could think about before falling asleep.
“Wow, I’m…” the man stumbled over his words. “I’m sorry to hear that, Commander Minamoto.”
“Just Shun, I’m not your Commander,” he insisted, but not harshly. “And, thank you.”
How many people had bothered to ask?
“Are you going to stay with us? Fight with us?” An older man spoke up this time, with a voice as gruff as Shun thought it would be, given his heavy upper body.
“Not for long, I can’t,” Shun shook his head. “I empathize with what you’re doing, I honestly do. But I’ve found that charging head-first into a world I don’t fully understand, just doing what I think is right, results in disaster time and time again. I don’t want that to happen to you, any of you.”
But not everyone in that crowd was so easily convinced.
*****
631 Words
Shinsei Madarame
“Not the one you know, no,” Shun answered, unhappy to have to give her that kind of news.
“But one from a different universe?” She repeated his explanation, still baffled by the idea.
“It’s hard to believe, I realize; yet here I am. You said yourself, I’m far more powerful than the man you knew.”
Shun found himself sitting in a wooden chair in some sort of dining hall. Around them were countless other Shinigami, some sitting, some standing, listening to Shun answer the questions of the Officers and leaders of this group of Shinigami. The building they were in was a fortress of Sekkseki, brought in numerous shipments from the Soul Society, to build this base of operations. And where was this located, of all places?
Hueco Mundo, in the Quartz Forest, with an army of Menos to separate them from any would-be invaders.
The purpose, as had been explained to him, was to provide a meager home for the hundreds of Shinigami that were part of The Resistance, as they called themselves. From what Shun had been able to glean, and he didn’t know the details yet, there had been a coup d’état in Seireitei. A large faction of Shinigami, fed up with the constant interference of humans in the spiritual affairs of humanity, rose up and overthrew the current leadership.
As Shun imagined, the result of this? A total eradication of all Humans displaying any sort of spiritual power or awareness. If you could control spiritual energy, they killed you. If you could see the dead, they killed you. If you so much as breathed a spiritual particle in such a way that made it look like you were in control? They killed you.
Quincy, Fullbringer, any other form of Human, it didn’t matter to them. Humans were sheep to be shepherded, they said, and they didn’t need any with teeth.
But the Resistance had other ideas. After all, powers or not, were they not still humans? Were they not still to be protected? Certainly, their powers would bring them nothing but unhappiness in a world that’s not meant to house such things. But that didn’t mean the Seireitei needed to get involved, except in the most extreme of cases.
Shun could understand this. It had, by and large, been his own stance.
“Why are you here, then?” A young man to his side spoke up, clearly nervous to ask.
Shun smiled at him, “I’m trying to get home.”
“How long have you been away?” The same man asked again, emboldened by Shun’s friendliness.
“Seventy-three years and three, maybe four months. I’ve lost track of the exact number of days,” he answered. Try as he might, bouts of unconsciousness made it impossible for him to know the exact amount of time. Some nights, it was all he could think about before falling asleep.
“Wow, I’m…” the man stumbled over his words. “I’m sorry to hear that, Commander Minamoto.”
“Just Shun, I’m not your Commander,” he insisted, but not harshly. “And, thank you.”
How many people had bothered to ask?
“Are you going to stay with us? Fight with us?” An older man spoke up this time, with a voice as gruff as Shun thought it would be, given his heavy upper body.
“Not for long, I can’t,” Shun shook his head. “I empathize with what you’re doing, I honestly do. But I’ve found that charging head-first into a world I don’t fully understand, just doing what I think is right, results in disaster time and time again. I don’t want that to happen to you, any of you.”
But not everyone in that crowd was so easily convinced.
*****
631 Words
Shinsei Madarame