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Alone, he sat on his throne in silence.
After Yhwach’s demise he had been the only one who was able fill the footsteps of the soul king. It was both far easier and harder than he had suspected.
He had been the closest to the godly being. So, after the Quincy king had died, the powers Yhwach had absorbed went to him. Accepting them was no problem, he was used to that. Still, he was somewhat overwhelmed. It felt … different on a level others couldn’t possibly understand.
There had been a commotion afterwards, long debates and discussions. All realms except the living world were damaged, depleted or decimated. Worries were that not even the soul king could balance them after Yhwach’s destructive path through the dimensions.
Their worries were unsubstantiated. He was more than capable and the world was just fine.
However, that didn’t mean that everyone was happy, not even a week after, when it was apparent that no ill would come from his succession. Well, let them believe what they wanted as long as they didn’t try to dethrone him and pull the realms into chaos again.
He really didn’t fancy Yhwach’s idea of utopia. A place where no one lived or died because those concepts became irrelevant. Maybe there already was such a place but it was not and should not be this place. This world thrived on the existence of endings, of new beginnings, of evolution.
It was a world of life; and life could only exist when death did as well. The two concepts weren’t opposites as much as intrinsically necessary complements to each other. In the circle of life each death contributed to the life of others, sustaining it, making it possible. Every living thing needed something that came from death; so life could continue.
Moreover, life was only precious because it was finite and each moment had to be cherished. Without death, there were no new beginnings nor a need for evolution. Whatever form humanity would take, soon it would be stagnant. And that wouldn’t be much of an existence, would it?
Thus, he would forever do his duty even if he wasn’t bound to fulfill it. He was strong enough to do it.
That was the easy part by the way. Just by existing the soul king balanced the worlds enough to ascertain the survival of all realms. If more effort was applied, the equilibrium became more stable and naturally occurring dimension rifts happened less often while the passage of souls from one world to another was smoother as well as much more efficient and balanced.
The hard part was the bleak loneliness – even though he had saved everyone. It wasn’t easy for him to admit his feelings, even just to himself.
And he had reached his goal … the throne.
Be careful what you wish for, that is what they said, correct? This time they were correct, Aizen thought as he sat on his throne, as the soul king, bound by cloth and seals to forever live his dream. He was just as if not more bound than that thing before him and Yhwach had been.
Moreover, that disgustingly clever scientist had devised even more powerful binding seals for his incarceration, which were used additionally to the ones used on the previous soul king in order to keep him (and the hogyouku) in place. Sousuke could probably call himself lucky because at least his face was free this time. While the view wasn’t astounding, it was more comfortable than even less stimulation would have been.
Up here his boredom was still overwhelming, the same endless abyss it had been in Soul Society…
The other easy part in this affair had been actually becoming the soul king. He had been perfect for it. He was powerful, and as the hogyouku’s master he already was something much more than a lowly Shinigami, Hollow or Quincy. It had given him vast capacities for power and made balancing the realms a triviality.
Moreover, he had wanted that power for a very long time. He had wanted to be soul king. He had wanted that seat. No wonder it had then chosen him.
Right now, he wasn’t as happy with the throne as he had imagined himself to be; but it was infinitely better than his other prison had been.
Now, he was king.
Now, he was god, was the soul king.
Now, he more than metaphorically stood – or sat – above all others.
Forever.
And ever the only one there.
...
Now, if only he could somehow scratch that itch between his shoulder blades that had been irritating him for the last few hours, because this was completely undignified for a monarch, for a god, no matter how bound or bored he was.