I sit on the throne in the sky.

Aizen watched. He was always good at that, he watched the billions upon billions of souls scurry about in the inky blackness of the universe.

He had always wondered why the Spirit King had never intervened, why he had never tried to stop him, why when Aizen had stood at the gilded golden throne and crushed the god's skull he had been smiling.

Ichigo Kurosaki, he was powerful, powerful on a level not understood by other Death gods, not understood by any other but Aizen, he envied the flame haired boy, in the end he had become human again, he had lost his power.

But he was not alone; there were billions of souls around him, like him, understanding him.

They all worshiped Aizen, he had changed it, he had, in an instant, instilled his image into their minds, their very souls burned with the desire to aid him, love him but most of all admire him.

A bittersweet smile came to Aizens lips; they admired him, admiration, the very furthest emotion from understanding. He remembered saying those words to Toshiro Hitsugaya, now, now if he even looked in the direction of another soul outside of the viewing pool in heaven he would destroy them with his power.

It wasn't worth it.

Aizen stood, his robes billowing around him, a blink and he was there, back, back to all those years ago, the flaming haired youth rushing at him, his black blade glinting in the light, no finger curled around that blade, no sword struck Ichigo, Aizen Sosuke was bisected.

He died with a smile on his face.

Back in heaven the spirit king hummed gently in thought as he felt another soul enter him.

The loneliness, the emptiness, it hadn't broke him.

Because after all, his children needed him.

In the end.

It was worth it.