An End to Gods features a recast of several characters from Bleach and Naruto within a new setting and story. Whilst there has been some changes, their names, personalities (within context of story and background), and themes have been imported virtually intact, excepting that most are more sociable (without necessarily being more personable) than their original counterparts.
Disclaimer: 'An End to Gods' is a work of fiction made to entertain, utilising existing characters, concepts, and settings from Bleach and Naruto. I do not, in any way, own them: all rights to the relevant characters and concepts (which are too many to list) belong to their respective creators, Masashi Kishimoto and Noriaki Kubo (a.k.a. Tite Kubo).
Darkness had blanketed the thriving port-city of Aegir, yet the night was young and its denizens continued their lives by torchlight, combing the streets, laughing, revelling, and living as they had for centuries. Their cares were few, for the wealth of the east and the south and the north flowed through their harbours and streets, enriching the citizens, before finding its way across the desert into the other cities of Shennincar. Presiding over this story of success was the immense palatial temple that lay in the very heart of Aegir, a colossal pillar towering in grim majesty over the cosmopolitan city below.
In spite of its immense size, the temple was as vast as it was vacant – the priesthood dwelt upon the lower mezzanine with their servants and guards – the upper levels were only accessible to a few favoured, for it was the abode of a living goddess, or so the human priesthood claimed.
At that moment, those vast empty halls resounded with the sharp echoes of footfalls as two women made their way upwards, traversing through great alabaster chambers of cut marble and polished sandstone. Like their surroundings, the women were similarly garbed in white, which contrasted spectacularly with the dusky statuesque forms of their bodies and served to accentuate rather than conceal, revealing as much as it hid. The foremost woman was easily the most visually arresting, with her messy blonde locks and braids that brushed against bronzed shoulders and brilliant turquoise eyes beneath gilded lashes. There was a vague luminosity about her, as though she were wrapped in a soft nimbus of golden incandescence, though it might have been a trick of the temple's fickle light.
The servant who walked behind her was more amazonian in build, yet no less voluptuous, with the dark waves of her hair brushing close to her waist, but her green eyes were brightly alert, though whether in attention for her mistress or alertness against danger was not clear. Though she might have seemed human, a fist-sized hole that passed cleanly through her torso revealed otherwise.
"Once again, I must repeat my protestations against dealing directly with the barbarians Harribel-sama!" said this one, unable to keep a note of desperation from her voice. "If you are seen to have a hand in this matter–"
"That will be enough Mila Rose," interrupted the golden goddess gently. "I have heard these protestations often enough, but this is a necessary evil, especially in these times. Aegir has become too rich and too decadent. Moreover, we control all the wealth along the western coast, a that fact that has not endeared us with our sister cities in the east, nor has it endowed the citizenry with warlike virtues – if war breaks out, we are likely to be the most unprepared city on the entire continent."
"But surely it won't come to war!" argued Mila Rose.
"The peace we made forty years ago was a forced one and it has always been strained at best; do you really expect it to last given the circumstances? There has been an unrest spreading through land and whilst I do not believe Baraggan to be the instigator of it, he is certainly poised to take advantage of it – even now, his human armies swell to the hundreds of thousands and he gathers the hollow and the arrancar by the thousands to bolster them in numbers even greater than before the Godswar – can there be any doubt that he is intent on conquest?"
"But surely he won't risk rousing the shinigami, and any sign that an Espada is preparing for conquest will unite the shinobi clans like nothing else would," muttered Rose. "My only concern in this whole matter is that if you are seen to have anything at all to do in this matter, you will be branded as accessory, whether you tried to prevent it or not! Let Baraggan start his war and be destroyed with it; do not get dragged into it!"
"Baraggan may be headstrong and arrogant, but I wouldn't think him a fool – there must be something he has found that has given him the confidence to start this," mused Harribel. "Either he has more allies than anyone can guess, or perhaps he has made some secret weapon... perhaps even found some to control the tailed beasts; though I would prefer the former to the latter."
Despite their leisurely pace, they had reached the uppermost floor of the temple; before them stood two enormous stone doors that guarded the Espada's innermost sanctum, and before this, Tier Harribel paused, looking intently at the door. For a while, Mila Rose observed her curiously until at last she spoke: "We shall put off further discussion about this – we have a guest."
"A guest?" replied the dusky amazon uncertainly, looking at the door inquiringly. It would have taken the combined effort of twenty men to force it open, and even so, the amount of noise would have alerted both her ladyship and herself, not to mention Apacci and Sung-Sun who were only a floor or two below.
"One unannounced and unexpected, but not unsought," replied Harribel cryptically. Setting her hands upon handles, she seized them and flung open the great stone portal. The chamber within was semicircular, its outer walls lined with open marble arches and columns that looked down upon the city, nearly a mile below.
Standing at one of these was a woman, her back turned towards the door, her arms folded to judge from her posture. Black hair brushed against her shoulders and back, her bearing that of a fighting woman, clad in black cloth and crimson plates from shoulder to ankle. The opening of the doors to the chamber did not seem to surprise her, for she did not turn to face those who had opened it. Rose's hand began to drift towards her sword.
"Uchiha Saeko, I assume?" Harribel's question was more assertion than query. Beside her, Mila Rose stiffened at the mention of the name.
"As you say," replied the other in the musical tones of a full-grown woman. "You sent word into hills and woods that you wished to discuss certain matters with the head of the Uchiha clan, so here I am; tell your servant to keep away from her sword, or she'll die where she stands."
Rose glowered darkly at the threat, but Harribel gave warning: "There will be no violence of any sort in my sanctuary." Whether she was addressing the intruder or Rose, Harribel did not elaborate. The Uchiha woman turned, revealing full red lips and beautiful features that were touched with arrogance from the ruthless pride of accomplishment. Her dark eyes took the whole room in a single glance – the tinkling crystal fountains, the pools of clear water and the cunningly designed streamlets that fed them – the false goddess was clearly in her element, but Saeko shrugged indifferently.
"Well then, before such unpleasantness can come to pass, tell me what it is you want that required my personal presence – I am certain you know well the proper channels to go through to obtain our services. I have to admit there was curiosity on my part that you would risk enmity with the Hidden Leaf Village by calling on us in such a direct manner; Senju Tobirama works hard to frustrate our clan and it's allies."
Rose grated at her tone, which took no account just who she was talking to and, more so, that she could look at her ladyship straight in the eye without flinching as most humans were wont to – nearly eight hundred years of rule had rendered the arrancar practically divine in the eyes of the greater bulk of humanity, yet the Uchiha barbarians had none of the fear or reverence that others had for these living gods. If any of these thoughts crossed the mind of Harribel, she did not give voice to them, but her eyes narrowed in thought for a short space. "You are mistaken on that account Saeko-dono; my desire was to speak with your father, Uchiha Tajima, in regards to certain sensitive matters of great importance."
The woman turned her head slightly to look at Harribel. Rose tensed without knowing why, but Saeko turned back to the city below, shaking her head regretfully. "Unfortunately, my father died nearly two weeks past now. As his successor, everything that was or would be his fell to me, including the request you sent – that's why I've come. You're lucky Madara was the one who secured father's belongings after his demise; another might have been tempted to read them and–"
"You? If there was a matter of succession, wasn't Uchiha Ryūjin to be next in–" Mila Rose, who had cut Saeko in the midst of her explanation, was herself silenced by a sudden urgent gesture from her mistress. An arrancar could no sooner feel chakra than the shinobi could sense reiatsu, but there was no mistaking the sudden black hate that washed over the room in almost palpable waves of rage from the woman at the archway. Rose took a step back in spite of herself.
Saeko turned to face them, her mysterious dark eyes now balefully red with the characteristic sharingan of her clansmen, her arms folded tightly beneath her breasts. "That name will never be mentioned again in my presence," she warned far too curtly to be anything but anger, her voice strained from self control. "That traitor is the reason my father is dead, amongst two score of others; my sister is in a state of near-catatonia, and my youngest brother–"
The Uchiha matriarch bit her lip suddenly, shaking her head angrily in frustration, but Harribel felt she had checked herself against an admission she felt was unwise to reveal. With visible effort, Saeko gathered herself to calm. "I think it right only to warn you that the Uchiha may not be as timely an ally as we have been in the past; these events have forced our hand in... certain matters. Nevertheless, I believe the clan considers Aegir a close ally, a friend even: seven decades of close ties is surely not something to be discounted even if times should grow hard – if we can aid you, then we shall, even if not now, then certainly later."
The Espada of Aegir said nothing, but merely gave her guest a long searching gaze, as though trying to ascertain the other's motives. "It is as you say, Saeko-dono, and for that I am most grateful. The matter at hand is quite... precarious – I would not have directly contacted your father had it not been so – Aegir is in a delicate position and I cannot have it be seen by any that we are trying to tip the balance one way or the other." Rose sighed; her mistress was committed to this dangerous course.
Saeko merely nodded. "It goes without saying that Aegir is in a delicate position: to the east, the self-proclaimed God-King of all Hollow, Barragan, now has troops that number in the hundreds of thousands; in the south, Starrk of Tyr has disappeared, leaving them leaderless and drunk on freedom; to the north-west... well, need I say anything about Ulquiorra's disinterest in the affairs of the land? If you're preparing for conflict Tier Harribel, you had best do so soon, for a mere thousand men-at-arms and a handful of Arrancar are a paltry force to dash against such a storm as Baraggan Louisenbairn intends to march across the Heuco Mundo and into the surrounding lands."
"I do not seek war, Saeko," cautioned Harribel sternly. "Let others needlessly sacrifice comrades and friends for the sake of their own petty glory and stubborn pride – I preserve that which is mine – and right now, what is absolutely necessary now is to stop this war before it even begins. Not to disrespect you or your position as the head of your clan Saeko-dono, but you are too young to remember the Godswar; everyone – Arrancar, Shinigami, Shinobi – were on the verge of being annihilated, for reasons few even care to remember. If another war breaks out this soon, there will be no stopping it: who would now believe in the binding power of treaties so soon broken?"
"I understand fully the import of your words," waved Saeko, "but perhaps you have not understood mine. The concerns and resources of the Uchiha are elsewhere at present; at best we can harass and impede Baraggan, but we cannot offer direct confrontation. If Ryū... if the traitor was still with us, it would be an entirely different matter. I suppose one could convince the Captain-Commander of the Seireitei on the gravity of the threat, but I suspect the old fool would just use it as an excuse to attempt an extermination of all Arrancar – not the resolution either of us seek..."
The Espada sighed as she took a place at the arch beside the Uchiha matriarch and both women gazed down at the city below, perfectly matched in poise and stature side by side, looking down in contemplative silence.
"How unusual to see you so far away from your station, Shihōin-taichō," murmured the tall dark-haired newcomer as he set foot upon the edge of the building, his pink-flowered kimono settling into place. The woman he addressed did not turn to look at him, but gave a smirk of acknowledgement instead. By comparison, she was much shorter than he, her head only barely on par with the height of his shoulders, and was quite dark of skin. Casually brushing the locks of the purple hair that brushed against her shoulders, her yellow eyes twinkled with amusement as she looked down on the scene below.
"What can I say Kyōraku? I'm pretty sure the Hakutōmon isn't likely to see invasion or issue," she shrugged. The Western White Way Gate guarded the way to the Great Ocean in the west over which the shinigami had crossed so long ago to reach this land in pursuit of their foes – in the whole history of Seireitei, it was the only one to have never faced invasion. "A girl can only bask in the sun so many times before she gets bored of it, don't you think? What's more, everything that's been worth talking about in Seireitei recently is happening here at the South Gate today."
Kyōraku Shunsui chuckled and turned his eyes towards the Shuwaimon, the Southern Red Hollow gate, adjusting his straw hat from habit rather than need. Numerous shinigami of the eleventh division had lined the street in formal manner as they were subjected to a last-minute inspection by their captain and guardian of the South Gate, Unohana Yachiru. Kyōraku couldn't help but give another chuckle: "So you're here to look at your pet project then. How novel it must be for the Kenpachi to play envoy and greet people in peace rather than at the end of her sword, but I supposed there has to be a first time for everything."
Shihōin Yoruichi laughed. "Is that why you're here Kyōraku-taichō? To make sure she doesn't decide to slash down those she's supposed to welcome?"
"By no means. I'm sure she'll do just fine, if not better than most – Unohana-dono's manners are impeccable to a fault. Rather, like yourself, I came here just to watch; there was little reason for me to be in the inner court today after all."
"Is that so?" grinned Yoruichi dubiously. "In other words, Lisa-chan must be mad at you about something or other..."
Kyōraku lowered his straw sakkat in a pantomime of embarrassment. "I guess there's no hiding anything from the Head of the Onmitsukidō, is there?"
Yoruichi shrugged in response. "Lucky guess, but not an– ah! Here they come."
Past the immense gate of the Shuwaimon, a large group could be seen to be making their way over the broken plains, having just quitted the dark forested hills in the distance. They did not come at walking pace as normal humans would have, nor at the mad charge of raiding swarm of Hollows; bent forward at the waist, with arms outstretched, they came at speed in a manner characteristic of the shinobi, some one hundred and fifty individuals all told.
"Yare yare, I guess they really are barbarians," noted Kyōraku as he stroked his chin. "All on foot for such a formal occasion and not a single horse or palanquin between them – the representatives of the great noble houses look like they're about to have a fit... and it appears that the Konoha delegation came out in force too – I hope they don't have mischief in mind."
"But never mind that: what were you thinking to suggest a plan like this Yoruichi-san? Yama-jii accepted, as did Central 46, after a lot of convincing, but even then only just barely. You're really going to stake your title as the head of your house, the Onmitsukidō, and your division on this? Even I can tell that this is a gamble, pure and simple; one with an uncertain pay off. Already, at the very least, you've greatly decreased the standing of the Shihōin family amongst the other Noble Houses."
For once, there was no humour on Youruichi's part, but neither did she answer. Kyōraku could already see her rerunning her calculations in her mind as she looked down at the approaching party. Not for the first time, he didn't envy her position as head of the Onmitsukidō; however easy going she was, the security of Seireitei couldn't have weighed easily on anyone's shoulders. Sparing another glance, the group was now nearly at the gate, wrapped in dusty brown cloaks, with none of the faces he expected to see and one he did not expect. "Looks like they know how to play this game after all," he chuckled without humour.
"So it seems," agreed Yoruichi. She had hoped that they would acquiesce to the suggestion of sending a number of relatively minor, but strategically important, representatives; rather, from all appearances, they had sent a single individual to replace that list, one important enough that it would allay protestations but not important enough to compromise their position if things went sour. Still, they must surely realise that whoever they send will effectively become a hostage the moment they enter these walls, don't they? For one so protective, I didn't think he would send one of his own children as a sacrifice. Did we miscalculate?
"Well then, shall we take a closer look at our 'guests'?" Yoruichi didn't wait for a response, but went down to the streets, a single step of her shunpo carrying her the full distance. The rank-and-file shinigami made way for her and Unohana raised an eyebrow at her appearance, but the smaller woman shook her head and waved her off, indicating that she should pay no attention to her presence. Kyōraku was at her side a moment later and they watched as the captain of the Shuwaimon went forward to meet her arrivals.
A quick glance showed that almost all the important members of the Konoha delegation had decided to make themselves known and others besides – the buxom head of the delegation, Tsunade and her pretty pink-haired apprentice, Sakura; the lean silver-haired bodyguard who always hid the lower-half of his face and the yellow-haired hermit boy, neither of whose names immediately came to mind (for Kyōraku was rather poor of memory when it came to remembering men); there were several others as well, including the Hyūga clan princess and her retinue.
"It looks like the reports were right," muttered Yoruichi. Kyōraku followed her gaze and immediately understood her meaning upon seeing the Hagoromo clan crest in addition to the one he expected. That they had been brought along was probably a staunch declaration of unity between the two clans, with the Hagoromo possibly serving as vassals.
Though the Konoha delegation made no comment, the faces of many were too blank and their expressions too wooden to be anything but disapproval – Kyōraku had heard that the separation had been bloody and had cost the lives of several of Konohagakure's most talented shinobi – though there were some who strained their necks with genuine interest. But now a hush fell upon the avenue as the arrivals met with the shinigami captain, and formal bows were exchanged.
The Hagoromo were the first to doff their cloaks, revealing their sombre black garb and gleaming crimson plated armour etched with the clan crest, which was made all the more imposing by their large builds and blunt manner, their appearance quite reminiscent of an armoured samurai, save that they carried no blades but a short sword upon their back. At their back, near the hip, was a small pouch, undoubtedly filled with ninja tools and scrolls.
Now, to their rear, the Uchiha removed their mantles beneath which they wore pristine white robes in perfect mimicry of the Seireitei highest nobility, save for their high-raised collars and their clan crest emblazoned on their backs. In contrast to the heavier Hagoromo, their bodies were lean and hard where visible, with hawkish features and dark predatory eyes. Together, they formed a imposingly impressive entourage whose grim splendour was on par with the stately lustre of the Seireitei patricians; a fact grudgingly and unhappily acknowledged.
"A formidable coterie of ruffians," murmured Kyōraku with a smirk, lowering his hat to hide the amusement in his eyes, and even Yoruichi grinned to see the family representatives of the noble houses unconsciously straighten their hunched shoulders to draw every bit of dignity they could muster, their blasé manner evaporating instantly. A little competition can sometimes do wonders. Amongst the elite of Seireitei, the shinobi clans had a reputation for being backwater rustics and had come to look down on what they expected to be a disorganised mob of bedraggled, uncultured barbarians. The disciplined ranks and sumptuous display of opulence had come as an unwelcome surprise to them.
"Welcome to Seireitei, my Lords," began Unohana gracefully, yet her soft, maiden-like manner seemed somewhat at odds with her steely demeanour. "I am Unohana Yachiru, Captain of the eleventh division and Guardian of the Shuwaimon. On behalf of the Captain-Commander, the Gotei 13, and Central 46, please allow me to welcome you to Seireitei."
A stately older man of the Hagoromo honour guard stepped forward to accept the welcome and began to offer the account of the retinue when a gentle hand placed upon his shoulder from behind forestalled him. The expression of his face, and several others in the cortège, clearly indicated that this was in deviation of what they had been drilled to do, and, for a moment, even Unohana's interest was piqued at the interruption.
"It's alright Genma, I can speak for myself," came the voice of a younger man from behind, to which Genma acquiesced and stepped aside revealing an Uchiha of modest height and a wild mop of raven hair framing handsome, if ruthless, features. Despite a lack of years, his dark eyes betrayed a shrewd intelligence and cunning not usually found in one who had only just stepped over the threshold of manhood. "On behalf of the Uchiha and Hagoromo clans, I thank you for your welcome Captian Unohana. I am Uchiha Sasuke, and I have come behalf of my clan to humbly accept Seireitei's request for the Uchiha to form a fifth noble house."
"And so the game begins," muttered Kyōraku.
The great antechamber was largely silent save for the sounds of running water. In the large central pool, Aegir's Espada, Tier Harribel reclined as she looked over the city through the open archways and meditated on the events of the evening amidst the steaming waters now that she was alone. Although more agreeable, Saeko proved no more tractable than her father had been, and with her grief still fresh, she was that much more difficult to deal with.
It was evident that Ryūjin's betrayal had left a far greater scar than the death of her father, and in many ways Harribel could believe it – in the few dealings she had had with him, Ryūjin proved more a mediator and scholar than warrior in temperament, serving to blunt the worst of his father's tempestuous nature during negotiation, and even her fracción had managed to find a kind word or two for him. Of course, there was no underestimating the Uchiha who had gained everlasting infamy by killing the Forest God, Senju Hashirama in single combat, hard as it was to believe.
With him gone, was there anyone left of his calibre amongst the Uchiha? As Saeko had bluntly noted, had he been present, they would have felt a lot more confident in tackling the issue that Barragan represented. Now the clan seemed to be drawing distant, choosing to openly deal with the shinigami, though Saeko had assured her that as long time allies of Aegir, she would gladly place their joint interests before any deals they made with the shinigami.
Harribel gave a sigh as she swirled the crystal clear waters with her dusky fingers. Apart from her fracción, she had relied more and more on the Uchiha mercenaries since they first offered their services not long after breaking away from Konohagakure, and in return she had made the venture quite profitable for them. It was almost betrayal of a sort, though not quite. Humans had to live in the present, where she potentially had eternity ahead of her.
She had been around for a long time, yet now it seemed that it had all passed in the blink of an eye – the persecution by the shinigami; the crusades to exterminate her kind; Aizen Souske's rebellion that gave them hope, followed by his betrayal of them all and then his death; the exodus that led them across the ocean and onto this, then, new world. For nearly four hundred years thereafter, they had rebuilt and thrived, attaining mastery over the native humans and establishing their dominions, where they were practically worshipped as gods. Then the shinigami crossed the ocean and the war began anew, gaining in intensity with each month that passed, yet that was not the peak of the Godswar.
What had once been a minor cult practising strange ways in the forests and the hills and the mountains, the knowledge and the use of chakra began to spread among the tribal humans. Seventy years after the war started, the first shinobi clans began to coalesce in the north, away from the dominion of the Espada and the reach of the shinigami divisions. And they began to fight. Empowered by their strange abilities, they presented an ever increasing threat, spilling out of the north to clash against hollow and shinigami alike. This was the crux of the Godswar, with a century of unprecedented destruction to the backdrop of a devastating three-way conflict. Then, the awakening and subsequent rampage of the tailed-beasts ended it, forcing the three to set aside their differences and find common causes.
All this, Harribel was aware of without particularly thought towards the matter. It was a lot for a woman to live through, yet now, there seemed to be much more on the dark horizon. With another sigh, she rose slowly, the heavy haze of condensation obscuring her as she made her way to the very centre of the pool. There she waved her arm in a slow, deliberate gesture and from the bottom of the pool, a single pale column, as thick as a man's arm, rose from the water and came to a stop when it was at height with her solar plexus. Another gesture, and the top of the column split open in hovering slices. Harribel reached within and withdrew her hand to reveal a gleaming black orb.
This was the Hōgyoku. It was the only thing she had been able to retrieve from Aizen's corpse before they fled from the west. Such a small thing, the basis of his plans, and eventually his power, but she was without clue to its use. Ever since Aizen's fall, it not longer shimmered within its dark inscrutable depths. It occurred to her that it might have even become completely inert with the death of its master, yet she clung to it in hopes that it might one day be the key to creating the foundation of the peaceful kingdom she desired. As she had done before, she left the pool with it to ponder its use, clothing herself as she did so.
Harribel had only a moment's warning – a sudden and monstrous surge of reiatsu – before the structure about her exploded in a violent eruption of caustic energy, engulfing dust, and flying shards of masonry. In the slowly dissipating cloud, Harribel stood in mid-air – the floor completely blown out from under her feet – her zampaktō in hand, her eyes narrowed as she attempted to discern the indistinct silhouette before her.
The wind blew suddenly, sweeping away the cloud, revealing the starry night sky and its crescent moon as clearly as the figure before her: a man in white and an immense pair of pitch-black wings like those of a bat. Disbelief was quickly replaced by anger and her hand tightened about the hilt of her sword as she straightened from her crouch, her voice as cold and hostile as the lambent green eyes of the one who confronted her.
"What is the meaning of this?" she all but whispered, her voice holding all the menace of a sword being drawn from its sheath. "Ulquiorra."