"At long last, my quest to defeat Aku has ended." The words echoed in Jack's mind like a prayer finally answered—a mantra whispered through decades of despair, hope, and relentless perseverance. He stood atop the scorched earth where it had all culminated, his katana still warm from the heat of battle. Aku's essence—his malevolent core—had been driven into the planet's molten depths, draining away like poison siphoned from a wound. Yet even as victory settled over him, its edges felt jagged, uneven. It came at a cost A cost he wouldn't know until long after he'd embraced Ashi.
"I felt… Aku leave me.".
Jack stepped outside the imperial palace, his eyes tracing the rows of cherry blossoms lining the courtyard. Their delicate petals swayed gently in the breeze, painting fleeting shadows across the curved stone walls of the ancient castle. For fifty years, he had wandered the future—a stranger adrift in a world warped by Aku's tyranny. Now, standing here amidst the remnants of his restored kingdom, those decades stretched before him like an endless horizon. He closed his eyes, letting memories wash over him.
Enemies. Da Sa-moo-rai—the self-proclaimed "true samurai"—who had mocked him with misplaced arrogance. The Sirens, whose haunting melodies stole his identity, leaving him lost in a haze of false memories. Demongo, the soul-stealing warrior who haunted his nightmares. Scaramouche, Aku's mechanical assassin, relentless in pursuit. And countless others—Aku's lackeys, each more grotesque than the last. Yet… Friends. The Scotsman, clapping him on the back with hearty laughter: "Aye, laddie! Yer the one who'll put that mustard-chuggin', piss-garglin' demon into the ground!" Olivia, the rave DJ, her voice ringing out after liberation: "We owe it to the samurai for freeing us." The Spartans, fighting alongside him against Aku's beetle bots. The woolies, teaching him to leap higher than ever before. Master Ning and his lizard monks, purifying him when Aku's corruption threatened to consume him. The Imakandi warriors, a race of cat-like felids who hunted him down for ages, yet in the end, betrayed the Shogun of Sorrows, and freed Jack, letting him continue on his quest to defeat Aku. There were moments of awkwardness too—humiliating missteps etched into his memory. Clothes stolen, leaving him naked in public. Aku's deceitful guise as Ikra, preying on his trust. Discovering Da Sa-moo-rai's flabby belly beneath his armor. But there were good memories too—moments of triumph and connection. Saving families from curses, aiding blind archers, turning aside from time portals to help strangers in need.
As Jack opened his eyes again, the crisp air of the courtyard filled his lungs. The wind carried whispers of spring, brushing softly against the slanted stone walls. But beneath the serenity, a pang tightened his chest. "And of course… her." Ashi. Her voice reverberated in his mind, sharp and unyielding: "Die, DIE SAMURAI! AKU IS THE FATHER OF ALL FATHERS!" "You look absolutely hideous." "You are a parasite on this great world that Aku has given us.
Then softer, trembling: "Don't do it… don't commit seppuku… Argh! You made me… more than who I was!"
Then, more upbeat, hopeful for a future that never was.
"You got your sword… a shave and a haircut."
"Do you think your robe is gonna protect me [from being naked]?"
Her voice, resigned and terrified, unable to comprehend the horror of being Aku's biological daughter, and the implications it'd have on the relationship between her and the venerable samurai:
"Jack… I can't stop this… Aku's corrupted me! I can't fight it!"
"I can't fight Aku. Leave me be." "You're not my father, Aku." And finally, broken yet resolute: "You're not my father, Aku." Their final moment together replayed behind his eyelids. She had placed a hand on his face, clad in her shiromuku, green eyes fading as he held her in his arms. The crowd fell silent, their mouths agape in horror, pity and confusion, mourning what they could not fully understand. "Without, Aku, I would have never… existed." A single tear rolled down the Samurai's cheek as he remembered. Even now, two years later, the void she left behind remained raw, red hot and too painful to even think about. Her disappearance meant something far worse—it meant she had likely ceased to exist entirely- along with her sisters, and everyone else in the past. "I hope," he murmured to himself, "that in her last moments of consciousness, she knew what she did for me before the world faded to black."
Jack descended the steps of the palace, walking through the bustling streets of his imperial capital, the atmosphere alive with chatter and laughter. Children played near stalls, merchants called out their wares, and elders exchanged stories with the new generation under shaded awnings, sitting cross legged on stools and tables next to pristinely kept, pebbled gutters. It was a scene he had fought so hard to restore—a world free from Aku's shadow. "Maybe…" he thought aloud, memories flashing of battles long past. Of daughters of Aku falling one by one, save for Ashi. "I hope their suffering has ended—not just for them, but for everyone I met along the way." His steps slowed as he approached a familiar dango shop. The young vendor, hair tied neatly in a topknot, bowed deeply upon seeing him. "Oh! Your Majesty!" the boy exclaimed. "How much dango would you like today?" Jack hesitated, his gaze drifting to the stall.
Memories surfaced—Ashi beside him, clad in a simple green kimono, her curiosity lighting up her face. "Ooh… What's this?" she had asked, pointing to the skewered sweets. "It's called dango," he'd replied. "Have you never tried something like it?" She shook her head, smiling shyly. "No… but it looks sweet." "I'll pay for you, my love," he'd said, earning a giggle from her as they waited.
The vendor's voice pulled him back to the present. "Your Majesty… my condolences for your loss." Jack blinked, meeting the boy's earnest gaze. "Thank you," he said softly. "It is appreciated." He accepted the dango, his fingers brushing the wooden skewer. As townsfolk gathered around him, eager to catch a glimpse of their prince, Jack found himself lost in thought. "Sometimes," he mused aloud, "life hands us wilted leaves. And the decisions we make, and the actions that follow—despite the misfortunes handed to us—are a reflection of who we truly are."
Deep below the surface of the earth, within a domain untouched by time, a woman, clad in something resembling the flowy grace of a Greek toga, her skin coruscating with the vibrant swirls of the earth's oceans, continents, poles and weather patterns, moved gracefully among endless rows of glowing bubbles. Each contained fragments of timelines—shards of memory plucked from streams of existence either destroyed or erased. "My, what a cute little dark blob of hatred!" she cooed, pausing before one particularly irate prisoner. Inside the bubble, Aku's essence writhed furiously, shaking its tiny fists. "THE SAMURAI! I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS!" it shrieked, unable to break free from its divine prison. The Earth Mother chuckled softly, her form shimmering underneath the soft glow of the cosmic background around her domain, like the rays of sunlight gently bouncing off on a serene water's surface. "Now, now," she chided. "Your fate is sealed, and this little cage here, will be your prison for the rest of eternity.." She continued her work, collecting nine shards of various jagged shapes, sizes and proportions from the flowing river of time beneath her feet. One was as dark as vantablack, absorbed all light that seemed to hit it, a deep black, another deep red. Seven others shimmered in hues of orange, baby blue, magenta, sapphire blue, yellow—and most importantly, pink and green. "Memories transcend the laws of space and time," she murmured, cradling the shards in her hands. "Once created, they can never be destroyed. Whether good or bad, memories must be preserved. The essence of conscious life lies in it's ability to create memories. For what use would it be, if nobody ever kept records of people's memories?" From his cage, the furious fragment of Aku glared at her, venom dripping from every syllable. "You… keeping me here for eons. You. I'll make sure you, along with Odin, Ra, and Rama, get your reckoning." The Earth Mother merely smiled, unfazed. She turned away, her duty clear, as she bubbled the 9 shards of a timeline long since erased, letting them levitate in the vast, endless rows of bubbles above her, just like she'd done for eons and would continue to do so for as long as her existence was guaranteed. Somewhere beyond these walls, life continued—fragile, fleeting, and beautiful. And somewhere within those lives, the echoes of heroes and villains lingered, waiting to shape the future once more.