[CUT TO – URAHARA SHOP | 3:07 AM]
Sora sighed a bit before making his way inside Kisuke's abode. He acted as if he owned the place, which, to be fair, wasn't that far off from the truth. In a sense, yes, he kinda owned this place. In a sense, he did.
He sighed to himself. Everything in here—more like 75% of the shit in this shop—was funded by him.
Besides, Kisuke was probably awake, doing... Kisuke things.
(Mostly involving explosions, unfinished teacups, and questionable ethics.)
He didn't bother announcing himself.
Instead, he navigated to the lab, past Jinta (who was asleep at the counter, mouth wide open like he was trying to catch flies), and into the deeper chambers of the hidden lab beneath the shop.
There it was:
The Premium Gigai.
Fully human, hyper-adaptable, equipped with everything, including functional human biology. (Because Sora, being a generous soul, believed even God should have the right to take a piss in peace.)
Sora took in a deep breath. He may have lost his Quincy skill, but basic Reishi transfer should be easy enough. All he had to do was have the right medium. If one of the bottom-tier races could do it, so could he.
He placed his palm on the Gigai's chest.
And then, he began to do what he came here for. All of the Reiryoku that he had absorbed from Aizen, he began pouring it into the Gigai, using this huge amount of Reiryoku as a bridge—a bridge that was used to carry the consciousness of the Soul King.
All of it.
Sora made sure not a single drop was left behind.
The Gigai twitched once.
Twice.
Then opened his eyes.
Yellow, predatory eyes.
Olive skin that gleamed under the sterile lab lights.
Hair like black silk threaded with hints of gold.
He looked like a Middle Eastern Zhongli—just... more regal, more ancient.
Like he'd seen the birth and death of countless worlds... and decided to look this good anyway.
The being opened his eyes. For just a split second, what seemed to be a fourth pupil could be seen in his eyes.
Then his eyes returned back to normal.
He would gaze at the child in front of him.
"Hm."
The man looked at his own fingers, flexing them for a bit, touching his skin, feeling his heartbeat in his chest, alongside all the organs someone should possess—really acting like it'd been thousands of years since he last had those.
He turned his head slowly and locked eyes with Sora.
Sora, smiling like a proud dad at a science fair, pulled a card from his jacket pocket and flicked it toward him.
A thick, black titanium card—30M yen attached, prepaid, no strings.
The Soul King caught it with two fingers, blinking once.
Sora grinned.
"Congrats, old man. You're free. You can finally enjoy the world you made, instead of just... watching it like a Netflix background character."
The Soul King tilted his head slightly, almost curiously.
"...What of my other self?"
Sora scratched the back of his head, clearly trying not to laugh.
"Ehh... Don't worry about it. Puppet-kun's still there. Just... a little brain-deadier than before."
The Soul King said nothing at first.
So that's what he did. You see, since Sora was basically a piece of himself, the Almighty was a bit iffy on him. As in, it was quite hard to determine what he does in the future.
A good way to explain it would be: if he was fighting everyone else, he had 40/20 vision to see their future. For Sora though, it was more like 10/20. Sure, he could see it, but shit was blurry. Probably something to do with either Sora being a piece of him...
Or the Soul King being weaker in general.
[NEXT MORNING | JAPAN | THE START OF THE SOUL KING'S B-ROUTE TOUR]
The sun was bright.
The air smelled like roasted sweet potatoes, city smoke, and cherry blossoms just starting to bloom again.
Sora wore sunglasses and a white T-shirt that said "LIVING MY BEST LIFE" in bold gold letters.
The Soul King?
Casual black button-up, rolled sleeves, black slacks, comfortable shoes.
Still looked like he could casually erase the moon if he wanted to.
But at least he looked relaxed.
Sora was leading him down a busy Tokyo street, hands shoved into his pockets, pointing at random stuff like a half-baked tourist guide.
"This is a konbini. They got food you can eat at 2AM, cigarettes, manga, probably the cure for cancer behind the counter if you ask nice."
The Soul King nodded solemnly.
"Efficient."
They kept walking.
"Over there's an arcade. Basically, a temple of violence where teenagers ruin their futures on claw machines and fake guns."
Another nod.
"Festive."
Sora bought him a taiyaki.
The Soul King stared at the fish-shaped pastry for a moment like it was an alien artifact, before biting into it with the most godlike dignity Sora had ever seen.
He chewed thoughtfully.
"...Pleasant."
Sora beamed.
They passed through a park where kids were playing soccer, a bakery that smelled so good it nearly broke Sora's 'don't buy another croissant' willpower, and eventually sat on a bench overlooking a koi pond.
The Soul King watched a single golden koi swim in slow, lazy circles.
Sora leaned back and stretched.
"So, how does it feel to finally be alive?" Sora said, looking at his dad.
The Soul King nodded slowly.
"It is different. But... enjoyable."
For once, there was no cosmic judgment in the air.
No "you must fix the balance" speeches.
Just... two guys, sitting there, existing.
Sora smirked.
"...Wanna hit a karaoke bar next?"
The Soul King turned to him, blinking slowly.
"...What is karaoke?"
Wait, he didn't know what that was?
No... he knew. He just wanted to give Sora the enjoyment of explaining. How thoughtful of him.
Coming up on Dragonb—(Wrong show)
Coming up next on Sora's adventure... the Karaoke Event.