...

My brain felt like popped corn.

That was probably understating it.

I don't how to describe the pain in all honesty- Scratch that, I can actually describe it, but not in any terms someone might be able to understand it.

To cut a long rant short, it felt like I'd deep-circuited my neural network while tripping it out with a new graphics card.

Make sense? Didn't think so.

My body, while not physically burning, felt like it was on fire. Every single nerve in my non-existent physical body felt like it was been flayed alive right now- Yes, present tense, 'cos that shit was still happening!

My five senses on the other hand were going through a variety of different symptoms.

And before the Soul King and all the other demonic fucks currently watching this shit-show go down started loosening fate-defying arrows, and believe me there were others watching! No. I am not entirely in control. And no, I did not bring this up on myself, so it's not my fault!

Ok, one of those is a lie- Wait, both of them were lies, so where's the fucking truth!?

Oh right. The fact there were other demonic beings watching me right now.

turns out, the Almighty wasn't a Yhwach-and-daddy trademark. Oh no, it wasn't.

That shit's been getting tossed out into the human world for the past fucking millennia or two, or three, or four- Or since like ever.

It's just most of its users either went mad and turned into rabid black-hole hollows hell-bent on ending the shit storm they witnessed, or they inevitably became a glorified keyholder for reality.

And there were only two of the latter. Considering the fact there's been literal hundreds of the prospects, said quite a bit about where the rest of them fuckin' went.

But that wasn't my problem right now, no hells growing army of future-sight-abusing prisoners wasn't even remotely at the top of my current shit list of problems. Though it does explain why they were all happy to wait for Aizen and the competent-future-sight abusers to get their asses kicked, and locked into some conceptual bollocks that involved a chair and a bubble.

No, my first problem was THE FUCKING PAIN.

That the fact Oetsu refused to budge on handing me his freakin' bones- I was skipping ahead of myself. Futuresight's a bitch, especially when powered by a fucking need to progress forward to a path I neither wanted nor wanted.

The sheer utter amount of not wanting to follow through needed to be stated twice.

My body idly kicked the Zanpkuto creator into the ground once again, every shinigami within the area having vacated earlier and ordered not to interfere by their respective, gawking, captains.

I ignored Byakuya's not-so-subtle cheer. The fucker might not have known what, or why this was happening, but for some odd reason, he was really enjoying the show.

Onto my second problem, as I idly cracked the Royal Guard on the head with sandals made out of reiatsu.

The senses.

Ignoring my unbelievable pain for a moment, led me to deal with my unfortunate, chaotic as-hell, senses.

My hearing was dealing with the sheer screams of the fucking damned in hell cursing me for what I was going through. For what I was going to do. And of cource cursing my future descendants- Which obviously meant their 'Almighty' was cut with some fucking drugs, 'cos I doubted I had the nether regions necessary to procreate anymore.

The smells that assaulted me came from the sheer utter rotten smell emanating out of every orifice of the Royal Guard before me- As if his very existence was poison to my dearly departed nose. I momentarily paused in my thrashing of the fuck, as I involuntarily shivered at the close proximity to the source of the smell that probably gave Kings Landing a run for its colossal debt.

I couldn't feel anything I touched on the other hand- The white-hot vibrations that racked my body because of the fucking air that dared to wash over it numbing me with way more pain to feel anything else.

I could taste the fucking reiatsu in the air, and boy did I feel like throwing up a thousand times a second at that- Which I actually did, though the vomit that came out looked eerily similar to a cero.

I idly picked up the drowsy, bloodied, face of Oetsu Nimaiya and locked eyes with him, the smell assaulting me growing far far stronger.

"Gimmmmeeee..." I eloquently remarked to the horrified shinigami.

When he refused to oblige, I let out a sigh and- Blinked at the sight that hit me.

Huh. Why was I seeing two different futures? Oh, wait hang on, no that was the same future, but cut in half-

Because that's what my sight was now like.

Futures. So many fucking futures all overlapping each other, and frankly making it utterly and absolutely fucking useless to me considering I couldn't tell what the messed up glob was supposed to mean!

Now, obviously, I knew that the reason so many were overlapping each other, was the same reason the fucking Soul King agreed to that stupid retirement plan- Any actions I took, including breathing, changed the future. But instead of my vision just, you know, adapting to the changed future, it just added another one, on top of the previous.

Apparently, butterflies really can fuck up a timeline.

Just during this rather small moment of kicking the fucking idiot's ass around, had created almost ten thousand different futures.

Did I mention they were all overlapping each other?

It was so fucking difficult to read that shit right now-

Oetsu Nimaiya disappeared from my grip, and away from my open fucking maw of a mouth- When the hell did I even open it!?

Was my body going to fucking eat the damned guy!?

Questions for later, I was now dealing with the cause of my future-vision getting cut in half.

My body had split in two.

Oetsu Nimaiya had just fucking Zoro'd me with consequences, the man currently breathing heavily, one sword stretched out as he stood up a few feet behind me, his knees buckling to crash into the floor.

"Unsheathe... Saya...Fushi!"

The man remarked belatedly, as he turned a glare towards me.

Neadless to say, I calmly made both halves of me swing around on their foot and faced him with two halves of my head.

I calmly tilted both head-halves, and pointed my right finger at him, watching as his expression turned somewhat horrified at me.

"Hey..." Both mouths spoke in unison, the word causing the man to stiffen as he forced his body around, and raised the shimmering, literally rippling, liquid blade upwards before he braced himself. "I thought that sword didn't have a sheath?"

His horror turned bemused for a moment before he shook it off and relapsed back into horror.

"What the fuck are you!?"

I made to answer that, before both halves of my mouth promptly threw up at him, and launched two ceros in the process.

And as I watched him barely manage to dodge, by twisting his body into the middle open space of the blasts, his sword, unfortunately, getting caught in the left beam as he turned his feet, I couldn't help but notice the fact the smell I was getting from him quintupled in sources, and boy did one of them fucking reek!

I barely noticed the horror on the man's face turn worse for some reason, though at least his fucking blade that managed to cut me couldn't be used anymore.

That shit got fried to a hilt!

Still, I idly knitted my body back together and turned to face the four side characters that elected to join me.

Who knows, maybe they might be more cooperative in giving me some of their bones than the blue-screening shithead that cut me in half.

Like seriously, i had a job to do and Hell wasn't going to kill itself!

Needless to say, judging by my body's automatic response to their arrival, I had a feeling they weren't going to cooperate either.

I mean, the encroaching ink speeding towards me aside... Why else would my body pop a fucking Kurohitsugi around me- And the better question was why the fuck it was wrapping itself around my body like some onion layers instead of turning into a box!

The less said about my transforming right arm the better.

Still, I gotta admit, all the pain and bullshit I was currently going through was absolutely worth the look of utter bafflement and fear that was Ichibe's face when his paintbrush-turned-spear's ink literally ran away from me.

I think it was running- Can't actually tell as most of it evaporated on contact with me.

Could've just been a splash zone of some sort?

"What in the hell..?" The captain of the royal schmucks idly remarked, taking a single step back.

"Funny that, your first words to me are consistent in every future..."

I raised the fucking Itto-Kaso chainsaw variant that my arm had turned into and pointed it toward the shinigami now staring at me extremely warily.

"Let's find out if your last ones are consistent too!"

...

Hope You Enjoyed! Don't Forget Feedback!