Unknown location, Hueco Mundo, T-minus 1 hour to the Quincy invasion of Soul Society
"The world is pure and empty. All will come to pass, and it will not change its nature. The world is pure and empty. Yet, it houses, gives, and takes life. The world is pure and empty. Those given its gift seek peace but do not know how to achieve it. These are simple facts that show intentions of the world. To live fully and take advantage of what has been given to you, one must live without vice and see past the cruel tricks that attempt to steal your peace. To give up all earthly affections and sacrifice the life you know, that is the one you must make to reach Nirvana. To learn and act for the betterment of all mankind, to help others face their actions and turn them into lessons, that is the path of the Buddha."
The other 25 sternritters stand before their speaker, Beraht, and bow respectfully. It dismisses them, "That concludes the speech. For those of you who are interested, I will be reciting a Sutra tomorrow after the violence has ended. Try to take mercy, brothers and sisters; you may all leave now."
They all turn casually to face the exit of a room that appears to be almost completely white aside from the doors on both ends, which would be enough to disorient almost anyone. Yhwach stands beside him, sitting with his legs crossed in the same manner as Beraht. He gives a light clap and thanks his companion, "What a wonderful speech; I see my trust in you was well-placed. Tell me, did you recite that from memory or was it improvised?"
Beraht remains motionless with his head lingering down as if praying, "I spake from the heart."
"Really? You've always been quite eloquent, but I thought you simply memorized your...Sutras." Yhwach almost recoils from the last word, as if he didn't want to say it.
Beraht leans his head up slightly and smiles, "The Sutras are a small portion of the philosophy. They make very good lessons, but it is up to the reader to interpret them and act them out. One should make their own words, not rely on those said by others: that is when you truly understand."
"You said something similar when we first met. Where was that?" Yhwach quietly reminisces.
"I have forgotten the date, but I do remember the place. It was morning at the Todai-ji Temple. Maybe a hundred years ago, maybe later. I seem to have lost track of time after as long as I have been in this life." Beraht recalls.
All of the others have left the room by now. Yhwach waits a moment in the sheer silence, waiting for the chance to ask, until he does, "Could you remind me of that day, again?"
"Certainly."
In mere moments Yhwach is sent aback into a trance as his mind is flooded with the faded memory of their first meeting...
The time should be about 19:00, and many of the pilgrims coming to Todai-ji have left or are finishing their meditations. Very few of the visitors to the temple at this time aren't monks, but one of those outsiders is none other than Yhwach riding a jet-black horse. He looks very tired, but still imposing; clearly having been traveling for a long time to reach this place.
With there being few people left in the main hall, one monk still sitting in front of the enormous, bronze Buddha statue stands out. Cloaked in bleach-white and completely unmoving, he seems to be the type to try and be symbolic, or at least one to have an odd sense of rituals. Thinking it to be rude to ride his steed into a temple, Yhwach dismounts and slowly approaches the statue. Once beside the monk, he speaks up, "Impressive, isn't it?"
Beraht is barely audible, "What is impressive?"
They are both using very archaic Japanese. "The idol, of course. It's the largest I've ever seen!"
Beraht shakes its head, "If you must say that, I must agree. However, what it represents is far more impressive than the size of the idol."
Yhwach chuckles, trying to suppress a hearty laugh, "Ah! How true, how humble! I've always found this fellow fascinating, you know." He begins to rub his chin in interest.
"Interest is the first step. Have you ever considered trying to follow the precepts?" Beraht begins to turn its head towards him, at which point the eye in the center of his head opens, unbeknownst to Yhwach.
"Yes, I have considered it. I would just need some help with that-" Yhwach begins to answer, but stops suddenly when he feels an uneasy presence.
"Oh my, you shouldn't lie, Yhwach." Beraht suddenly announces. Yhwach is about to respond, but Beraht does it for him, "Now you're wondering how I know your name, and how I know what you're thinking; 'Can he read my mind!?' Well, yes and no. My name is Beraht, and I know the sins you've committed, thus those you endure. Vengeance, is it? Well, I think I know enough. I'll close my eyes and let you speak, how does that sound? Good."
And his eye finally closes after those split few seconds of unnerving speech. In just a few seconds, everything that Yhwach was saving for later in the conversation and even for years in advance was being ripped from his mind and told to him. Nothing could compare to the speed at which his mind was thoroughly fucked, even leaving him partly shocked and unable to continue for at least another few full seconds. When he finally does, he seems further impressed, "You probably already know what I want, in that case. All I need is your confirmation, then."
Beraht smiles, "I know. You want me to help you enact your whims. You know that I am something called a 'Quincy', or a human who can control 'Reishi' in many forms to manifest a means to defend or destroy. Is that correct? It must be, for it is what you thought. And I'm one of the first you came to. Apologies, my nature sometimes comes to surface like that."
Yhwach shakes his head this time, "You are forgiven. After all, someone like you would be very valuable for what I have in mind."
"I do not intend to be used." Beraht affirms.
"I don't intend to use you." Yhwach argues.
The two remain silent, but Beraht breaks it, "You seem to be honest. I can follow you, but I will not help you kill. I will intend to pursue the goal I have had for all of my lives, and keep that foremost."
Yhwach continues for him, "So this will be a chapter and nothing else? I realize that, but I think you'll be good for myself and all of the people I will accumulate. What do you say?"
Beraht gives this a moment of thought, during which time his third eye reopens again and tells him every intention that the man standing before him has. "I cannot support your current goals. If anything, I will make it my own goal to prevent you from doing evil."
"We'll see if you can change my mind, then. Thi-"
"Think of it as a challenge." Beraht finishes for him. "Very well, but remember my words."
The two bow to each other and stay at the temple for the rest of the night before departing the next morning. Everything apart from the conversation is a blur, now.
The memory ends, and Yhwach finds himself back in the white room that they sat in then. "How long has it been?" he asks.
"A mere moment."
"Amazing. With us both, we can see both the future and the past clearly." Yhwach looks up, smiling and looking very relaxed.
"It is quite the power to behold. I wonder how much you will do with that."
"Can't you figure out just by reading my mind?" Yhwach chuckles.
"Your heart; I could. I will not unless I must. Even now, my eyes are closed and will not open until they need be." As the words fall from his mouth, the atmosphere stagnates.
"So you're leaving me to face my failures? How like you." Yhwach almost sounds bitter, but understands.
"Has that memory embittered you for the moment?" Beraht wonders.
"You could say that. I still consider you my better half, but sometimes it's frustrating trying to wade through all of the metaphors and philosophy. Aren't I one of the few people you say anything literal to?"
"In a sense. I try to do so when I am not teaching the listener. I realize that not everybody can understand my words on a whim, nor the meaning behind them."
"And very few here do that. The only one I can think of at the moment who could possibly make sense of your lessons is Joseph." Yhwach rests his head on his hand, with the elbow on his knee.
"Joseph, 'The Mistake', correct? He and I have an interesting relationship, but I do find him more workable than the likes of some of the others. I have actually been trying to get through to Gabrielle." Beraht makes a pained expression when she is mentioned.
"Ah, her. She can be very stubborn, you know."
"I know all too well. I predict her death if she does not change, and I wish that someone with as much potential as she has does not perish. However, may she pass into a better life if that is to be her fate..." he pauses for a moment "...There are others among them who I could remark, but I doubt they will be alive much longer. Yhwach, promise me something."
The sudden demand catches him off guard, "A promise?" He turns towards Beraht.
"Promise me that you will work for their lives, not the deaths of their enemies."
Yhwach can't seem to speak. They sit there for a minute in contemplation and patience with one another. Well, they do not feel. The atmosphere changed from stagnant to tense in almost no time. He considers what he could answer with, but everything comes to uncertainty. He foresees that Beraht will not agree, that he will be displeased with the answer, and that the promise cannot be made true. He knows it's an impossible request. So he doesn't answer; he only stands and begins to leave.
Beraht knows as well what the answer was: nothing. There was no reason to ask for the promise, the fate of them all has already been decided. There is nothing that can be done, and all that will come to pass will be awash in purity when their own apocalypse comes. They will fail. They know, but continue, determined by their own goals. They wish to change an unchangeable future.
Solidity. The permanent events past and everything they encompass. Fate, what it will affect and those who will fall victim to it. Karma: that which controls fate, an endless wheel; a ring of spiraling inevitability based on the actions of all living things.
They are all children, waiting for their time of glory, naive of the rules of the world, the rules of the future. In that future, we will look back on the plans we have made with nostalgia and sadness; with the knowledge that we might have changed ourselves and prevented them. Yet, the words their spirits will speak and engrave upon the minds of the dead and living will not allow us to forget.
Some may say it was necessary, but that changes nothing. We can but rely on that precedent to justify our actions, and who here will have something that will be saved? Forever will our hearts be stained, forever will our sin be with us. Conceit is the only word to describe it.
And those that were forgiven, who have sinned and left; will they feel release? Will those who were killed by that conceit? It's the beginning of the end for them all. The beginning of the history we made for ourselves, and the beginning of our defeat.
To break down and rebuild, to make room for your ways in the behest of others. A curse. It is a question of humanity, of ethics. Everything has ended: our choice to continue and the determination to make it to our fates. Those choices are gone. Or, they will be. All of this is to come, and it has been seen.
And now we continue. There is no option. We live to grant meaning to that which has none, and in that are our actions justified. Creation is what all aspire for, what they desire without realizing it. It follows the tenants that we create ourselves, perhaps ironically. These tenants are ourselves, all standing silently in the world. The silence itself tells us that words would be useless. We do not live apart, but as one; a mass of great minds all combined into a single conscious that all of its components act upon. That is humanity.
It is not living, yet it has life. We each aspire for our own creations, ignorant of humanity. It is our goal, the culmination of the actions of all living people. It is not the individuals, but their sum that inspires importance. They are a machine, speaking to itself. Creating and destroying for eternity, always changing and considering the best among the worst. To do for the sake of itself: Meaning in meaninglessness.
And they move forward regardless of the odds. Unable to go back, they push and hope that the sacrifices they made were not in vain. I pray: May the offspring have eternal release.
"What a cruel, beautiful world." Its final words that day.
It leaves, and the world goes black.
